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LIVES
NECROMANCERS.
baylis and leiohtok,
johnson's.court, fleet-street.
LIVES
NECROMANCERS:
OR,
AN ACCOUNT OF THE MOST EMINENT PERSONS IN
SUCCESSIVE AGES, WHO HAVE CLAIMED FOR
THEMSELVES, OR TO WHOM HAS
BEEN IMPUTED BY OTHERS,
EXERCISE OF MAGICAL POWER.
BY WILLIAM GODWIN.
; LONDON :t
FREDERICK J. MASON, 444, WEST . TRAND.
1834.
AUG 301881
;
^
PREFACE.
The main purpose o£ this book is to exhibit a
fidr delineation erf the credulity of the human
miixd. Such an exhibition cannot fail to be pro-
ductive of the most salutary lessons.
One view of the subject will teach us a useful
pride in the abundance of our faculties. Without
pride man is in reality of little value. It is pride
that stimulates us to all our great undertakings.
Without pride, and the secret persuasion of extra^
ordinary talents, what man would take up the pen
with a view to produce an important work, whe-
ther of imagination and poetry, or of profound
science, or of acute and subtle reasoning and in-
tellectual anatomy ? It is pride in this sense that
makes the great general and the consummate le-
gislator, that animates us to tasks the most la-
VI PREFACE,
borious, and causes us to shrink from no difficulty,
and to be confounded and overwhelmed with no
obstacle that can be interposed in our path.
Nothing can be more striking than the contrast
between man and the inferior animals. The latter
live only for the day, and see for the most part
only what is immediately before them. But man
lives in the past and the future. He reasons upon
and improves by the past ; he records the acts of
a long series of generations : and he looks into
future time, lays down plans which he shall be
months and years in bringing to maturity, and
contrives machines and delineates systems of edu-
cation and government, which may gradually add
to the accommodations of all, and raise the species
generally into a nobler and more honourable cha-
racter than our ancestors were capable of sus-
taining.
Man looks through nature, and is able to reduce
its parts into a great whole. He classes the beings
which are found in it, both animate and inanimate,
delineates and describes them, investigates their
properties, and recoi^ds their capacities, their good
and evil qualities, their dangers and their uses.
Nor does he only see all that is ; but he also
PREFACE. VII
images all that is not. He takes to pieces the
substances that are, and combines their parts into
new arrangements. He peoples all the elements
from the world of his imagination. It is here that
he is most extraordinary and wonderful. The
record of what actually is, and has happened in
the series of human events, is perhaps the smallest
part of human history. If we would know man in
all his subtleties, we must deviate into the world
of miracles and sorcery. To know the things that
are not, and cannot be, but have been imagined
and believed, is the most curious chapter in the
annals of man. To observe the actual results of
these imaginary phenomena, and the crimes and
cruelties they have caused us to commit, is one of
the most instructive studies in which we can pos-
sibly be engaged. It is here that man is most
astonishing, and that we contemplate with most
admiration the discursive and unbounded nature
of his faculties.
But, if a recollection of the examples of the
credulity of the human mind may in one view
supply nourishment to our pride, it still more ob-
viously tends to teach us sobriety and humiliation.
Man in his genuine and direct sphere is the dis-
A 2
Viii PMPACE.
ciple of reason ; it is by this fkculty that he draws
inferences, exerts his prudence, and displays the
ingenuity of machinery, and the subtlety of system
both in natural and moral philosophy. Yet what
so irrational as man ? Not contented with making
use of the powers we possess, for the purpose of
conducing to our accommodation and well being,
we with a daring spirit inquire into the invisible
causes of what we see, and people all nature with
Gods " of every shape and size** and angels, with
principalities and powers, with beneficent beings
who " take charge concerning us lest at any time
we dash our foot against a stone," and with devils
who are perpetually on the watch to perplex us
and do us injury. And, having familiarised our
minds with the conceptions of these beings, we
immediately aspire to hold communion with them.
We represent to ourselves God, as ''walking in
the garden with us in the cool of the day/* and
teach ourselves "not to forget to entertain strangers,
lest by so doing we should repel angels unawares.**
No sooner are we, even in a slight degree, ac-
quainted with the laws of nature, than we frame
to ourselves the idea, by the aid of some invisible
ally, of suspending their operation, of calling out
PREFACE. IX
meteors in the sky, of commanding stcM-ms and
tempests, of arresting the motion of the heavenly
bodies, of producing miraculous cures upon the
bodies of our fellow-men, or afflicting them with
disease and death, of calling up the deceased from
the silence of the grave, and compelling them to
disclose " the secrets of the world unknown."
But, what is most deplorable, we are not con-
tented to endeavour to secure the aid of God and
good angels, but we also aspire to enter into alli-
ance with devils, and beings destined for their
rebellion to suffer eternally the pains of hell. As
they are supposed to be of a character perverted
and depraved, we of course apply to them princi-
pally for purposes of wantonness, or of malice and
revenge. And, in the instances which have oc-
curred only a few centuries back, the most com-
mon idea has been of a compact entered into by
an unprincipled and impious human being with
the sworn enemy of God and man, in the result
of which the devil engages to serve the capricious
will and perform the behests of his blasphemous
votary for a certain number of years, while the de-
luded wr6tch in return engages to renounce his
God and Saviour, atid surrender himself body and
X PREFACE.
soul to the pains of hell from the end of that terra
to all eternity. No sooner do we imagine human
beings invested with these wonderful powers, and
conceive them as called into action for the most
malignant purposes, than we become the passive
and terrified slaves of the creatures of our own
imaginations, and fear to be assailed at every mo-
ment by beings to whose power we can set no
limit, and whose modes of hostility no human
sagacity can anticipate and provide against. But,
what is still more extraordinary, the human crea-
tures that pretend to these powers have often been
found as completely the dupes of this supernatural
machinery, as the most timid wretch that stands
in terror at its expected operation ; and no phe-
nomenon has been more common than the confes-
sion of these allies of hell, that they have verily and
indeed held commerce and formed plots and con-
spiracies with Satan.
The consequence of this state of things has been,
that criminal jurisprudence and the last severities
of the law have been called forth to an amazing
extent to exterminate witches and witchcraft.
More especially in the sixteenth century hundreds
and thousands were burned alive within the com-
PREFACE. HXl
pass of a small territory ; and judges, the directors
of the scene, a Nicholas Remi, a De Lancre, and
many others, have published copious volumes,
entering into a minute detail of the system and
fashion of the witchcraft of the professors, whom
they sent in multitudes to expiate their depravity
at the gallows and the stake.
One useful lesson which we may derive from the
detail of these particulars, is the folly in most cases
of imputing pure and unmingled hypocrisy to man.
The human mind is of so ductile a character that,
like what is affirmed of charity by the apostle, it
"believeth all things, and endureth all things.*'
We are not at liberty to trifle with the sacredness
of truth. While we persuade others, we begin to
deceive ourselves. Human life is a drama of that
sort, that, while we act our part, and endeavour
to do justice to the sentiments which are put down
for us, we begin to believe we are the thing we
would represent.
To shew however the modes in which the delu-
sion acts upon the person through whom it ope-
rates, is not properly the scope of this book. Here
and there I have suggested hints to this purpose,
which the curious reader may follow to their fur-
Xll FUtrlPACE:
thest ifextent, and discover how with perfect good
faith the artist may bring himself to swallow the
grossest impossibilities. But the work I have writ-
ten is not a treatise of natural magic. It rather
proposes to display the immense wealth of the
faculty of imagination, and to shew the extrava^
gances of which the man may be guilty who sur^
renders himself to its guidance.
It is fit however that the reader should bear in
mind, that what is put down in this book is but a
small part and scantling of the acts of sorcery and
witchcraft which have existed in human society.
They have been found in all ages and countries.
The torrid zone and the frozen north have neither
of them escaped from a fruitful harvest of this sort
of offspring. In ages of ignorance they have been
especially at home ; and the races of men that have
left no records behind them to tell almost that they
existed, have been most of all rife in deeds of
darkness, and those marvellous incidents which
especially ^astonish the spectator, and throw back
the infant reason of man into those shades and that
obscurity from which it had so recently endea-
voured to escape.
I wind up for the present my literary labours
PREFACE. XUl
with the production of this book. Nor let any
reader imagine that I here put into his hands a
mere work of idle recreation. It will be found preg-
nant with deeper uses. The wildest extravagances
of human fancy, the most deplorable perversion of
human faculties, and the most horrible distortions
of jurisprudence, may occasionally afford us a salu-
tary lesson, I love in the foremost place to con-
template man in all his honours and in all the ex-
altation of wisdom and virtue ; but it will also be
occasionally of service to us to look into his obli-
quities, and distinctly to remark how great and
portentous have been his absurdities and his follies.
May 29, 1834.
CONTENTS.
Page
INTRODUCTION 1
AMBITIOUS NATURE OF MAN . . 9
HIS DESIRE TO PENETRATE INTO FUTURITY 10
DIVINATION 11
AUGURY ib.
CHIROMANCY 12
PHYSIOGNOMY ib.
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS . . . 13
CASTING OF LOTS 14
ASTROLOGY ib.
ORACLES 15
DELPHI 16
THE DESIRE TO COMMAND AND CONTROL
FUTURE EVENTS 20
J
XVI CONTENTS.
Page
COMMERCE WITH THE INVISIBLE WORLD . 20
SORCERY AND ENCHANTMENT .... 21
WITCHCRAFT ....... 24
COMPACTS WITH THE DEVIL .... 25
IMPS 26
TALISMANS AND AMULETS 27
NECROMANCY ib.
ALCHEMY 29
FAIRIES 32
ROSICRUCIANS 35
SYLPHS AND GNOMES, SALAMANDERS AND
UNDINES 36
EXAMPLES OF NECROMANCY AND
WITCHCRAFT FROM THE BIBLE 39
THE MAGI, OR WISE MEN OF THE EAST . . 44
EGYPT 46
STATUE OF MEMNON 50
TEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON : ITS ORACLES 51
CHALDEA AND BABYLON 54
ZOROASTER . . 55
GREECE 57
DEITIES OF GREECE 58
DEMIGODS .62
DJEDALUS . 64
THE ARGONAUTS 66
MEDEA 67
CIRCE 70
ORPHEUS ib.
AMPHION . ... . . . . 74
TIRESIAS 75
ABARIS 76
PYTHAGORAS . 77
CONTENTS. XVll
Page
EPIMBNIDES 92
EMPEDOCLES 95
ARISTEAS 98
HERMOTIMUS 99
THE MOTHER OF DEMARATUS, KING OF
SPARTA 100
ORACLES 101
INVASION OF XERXES INTO GREECE . . 107
DEMOCRITUS 110
SOCRATES 112
ROME 119
VIRGIL . t6-
POLYDORUS ib.
DIDO 120
ROMULUS 122
NUMA ib.
TULLUS HOSTILIUS 124
ACCIUS NAVIUS ib.
SERVIUS TULLIUS 125
THE SORCERESS OF VIRGIL .... 127
CANIDIA 129
ERICHTHO 13S
SERTORIUS 146
CASTING OUT DEVILS 150
SIMON MAGUS ib.
ELYMAS, THE SORCERER 153
NERO 155
VESPASIAN . . ib.
APOLLONIUS OF TYANA 157
APULEIUS 164
ALEXANDER THE PAPHLAGONIAN . 165
XVm CONTENTS.
Page
REVOLUTION PRODUCED IN THE
HISTORY OF NECROMANCY AND
WITCHCRAFT UPON THE ESTA-
BLISHMENT OF CHRISTIANITY 171
MAGICAL CONSULTATIONS RESPECTING THE
LIFE OF THE EMPEROR .... 173
HISTORY OF NECROMANCY IN
THE EAST 177
GENERAL SILENCE OF THE EAST RESPECT-
ING INDIVIDUAL NECROMANCERS . . 185
ROCAIL 187
HAKEM, OTHERWISE MACANNA ... 188
ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS . . 189
PERSIAN TALES 195
STORY OF A GOULE 201
ARABIAN NIGHTS 203
RESEMBLANCE OF THE TALES OF THE EAST
AND OF EUROPE 204
CAUSES OF HUMAN CREDULITY . . .206
DARK AGES OF EUROPE . . .211
MERLIN 216
ST. DUNSTAN 222
COMMUNICATION OF EUROPE AND
THE SARACENS 231
GERBERT, POPE SILVESTER II ... . ib.
BENEDICT THE NINTH 234
GREGORY THE SEVENTH 235
DUFF, KING OF SCOTLAND .... 241
CONTENTS. XIX
Page
MACBETH 243
VIRGIL 249
ROBERT OF LINCOLN 252
MICHAEL SCOT 254
THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ 255
MIRACLE OF THE TUB OF WATER . . 257
INSTITUTION OF FRIARS . . . . . 259
ALBERTUS MAGNUS . . . . . . 260
ROGER BACON ,263
THOMAS AQUINAS 266
PETER OF APONO . . • . . . .268
ENGLISH LAW OF HIGH TREASON . . 269
ZIITO .278
TRANSMUTATION OF METALS ... 277
ARTEPHIUS 278
RAYMOND LULLI ib.
ARNOLD OF VILLENEUVE 281
ENGLISH LAWS RESPECTING TRANSMUTATION 282
REVIVAL OF LETTERS .... 285
JOAN OF ARC 286
ELEANOR COBHAM, DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER 294
RICHARD III 29Y
SANGUINARY PROCEEDINGS
AGAINST WITCHCRAFT . . 299
SAVONAROLA 811
TRITHEMIUS fll8
LUTHER • ... 320
CORNELIUS AGRIPPA 322
FAUSTUS 330
SABELLICUS 358
PARACELSUS 359
CARDAN 362
XX CONTENTS.
Page
QUACKS, WHO IN COOL BLOOD UNDERTOOK
TO OVERREACH MANKIND ... 364
BENVENUTO CELLINI 365
NOSTRADAMUS 372
DOCTOR DEE 373
EARL OF DERBY 398
KING JAMES'S VOYAGE TO NORWAY . . 3«9
JOHN FIAN . . 404
KING JAMES'S DEMONOLOGY .... 405
STATUTE, 1 JAMES I 407
FORMAN AND OTHERS 408
LATEST IDEAS OF JAMES ON THE SUBJECT 412
LANCASHIRE WITCHES ib.
LADY DAVIES 418
EDWARD FAIRFAX 419
DOCTOR LAMB ib.
URBAIN GRANDIER .421
ASTROLOGY 428
WILLIAM LILLY 426
MATTHEW HOPKINS 432
CROMWEL 437
DOROTHY MATELEY 440
WITCHES HANGED BY SIR MATTHEW HALE 443
WITCHCRAFT IN SWEDEN 448
WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND ... 454
CONCLUSION 463
LIVES
NECROMANCERS
The improvements that have been effected in
natural philosophy have by degrees convinced the
enlightened part of mankind that the material
universe is every where subject to laws, fixed in
their weight, measure and duration, capable of the
most exact calculation, and which in no case admit
of variation and exception. Whatever is not thus
to be accounted for is of mind, and springs from
the volition of some being, of which the material
form is subjected to our senses, and the action of
which is in like manner regulated by the laws of
matter. Beside this, mind, as well as matter, is
subject to fixed laws; and thus every phenomenon
and occurrence around us is rendered a topic for
the speculations of sagacity and foresight. Such
is the creed which science has universally pre-
scribed to the judicious and reflecting among us.
It was otherwise in the infancy and less mature
state of human knowledge. The chain of causes
B
2 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
and consequences was yet unrecognized j and
events perpetually occurred, for which no sagacity
that was then in being was able to assign an ori-
ginal. Hence men felt themselves habitually dis-
posed to refer many of the appearances with which
they were conversant to the agency of invisible
intelligences ; sometimes under the influence of a
benignant disposition, sometimes of malice, and
sometimes perhaps from an inclination to make
themselves sport of the wonder and astonishment
of ignorant mortals. Omens and portents told
these men of some piece of good or ill fortune
speedily to befal them. The flight of birds wa3
watched by them, as foretokening somewhat im-^
portant, Thundei: excited in them a feeling of
supernatural terror. Eclipses with fear of change
perplexed the nations. The phenomena of the
heavens, regular and irregular, were anxiously re-
marked from the same principle. During the
hours of darkness men were apt to see a super-
natural being in every bush ; and they could not
cross a receptacle for. the dead, without expecting
to encounter some one of the departed uneasily
wandering ampng graves, or commissioned to re-
veal somewhat momentous and deeply affecting to
the survivors. Fairies danced in the moonlight
glade; and something preternatural perpetually
occurred to fill the living with admiration and awe.
All this gradually reduced itself into a system.
Mankind, particularly in the dark and ignorant
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. O
ages, were divided into the strong and the weak ;
the strong and weak of animal frame, when cor-
poreal strength more decidedly bore sway than in a
period of greater cultivation ; and the strong and
weak in reference to intellect; those who were
bold, audacious and enterprising in acquiring an
ascendancy over their fellow-men, and those who
truckled, submitted, and were acted upon, froni an
innate consciousness of inferiority, and a supersti-
tious looking up to such as were of greater natural
or acquired endowments than themselves. The
strong in intellect were eager to avail themselves
of their superiority, by means that escaped the pe-
netration of the multitude, and had recourse to
various artifices to effect their ends. Beside this,
they became the dupes of their own practices.
They set out at first in their conception of things
from the level of the vulgar. They appUed them-
selves diligently to the unravelling of what was
unknown ; wpnder mingled with their contempla-
tion ; they abstracted their minds from things of
ordinary occurrence, and, as we may denominate
it, of real life, till at length they lost their true
balance amidst the astonishment they sought to
produce in their inferiors. They felt a vocation
to things extraordinary; and «they willingly gave
scope and line without limit to that which engen-
dered in themselves the most gratifying sensations,
at the same time that it answered the purposes of
their ambition.
B 2
4 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
As these principles in the two parties, the more
refined and the vulgar, are universal, and derive
their origin from the nature of man, it has neces-
sarily happened that this faith in extraordinary
events, and superstitious fear of what is supema^
tural, has diffused itself through every climate of
the world, in a certain stage of human intellect,
and while refinement had not yet got the better of
barbarism. The Celts of antiquity had their
Druids, a branch of whose special profession was
the exercise of magic. The Chaldeans and Egyp-
tians had their wise men, their magicians and their
sorcerers. The negroes have their foretellers of
events, their amulets, and their reporters and be-
lievers of miraculous occurrences. A similar race
of men was found by Columbus and the other dis-
coverers of the New World in America; and facts
of a parallel nature are attested to us in the islands
of the South Seas. And, as phenomena of this
sort were universal in their nature, without dis-
tinction of climate, whether torrid or frozen, and
independently of the discordant manners and cus-
toms of different countries, so have they been very
slow and recent in their disappearing. Queen
Elizabeth sent to consult Dr. John Dee, the astro-
loger, respecting a lucky day for her coronation ;
King James the First employed much of his
learned leisure upon questions of witchcraft and
demonology, in which he fiilly believed ; and sir
Matthew Hale in the year 1664 caused two old
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. O-
women to be hanged upon a charge of unlawful
communion with infernal agents.
The history of mankind therefore will be very
imperfect, and our knowledge of the operations
and eccentricities of the mind lamentably defi-
cient, unless we take into our view what has oc-
curred under this head. The supernatural appear-
ances with which our ancestors conceived them-
selves perpetually surrounded must have had a
strong tendency to cherish and keep alive the
powers of the imagination, and to penetrate those
who witnessed or expected such things with an
extraordinary sensitiveness. As the course of
events appears to us at present, there is much,
though abstractedly within the compass of human
sagacity to foresee, which yet the actors on the
scene do not foresee : but the blindness and per-
plexity of short-sighted mortals must have been
wonderfully increased, when ghosts and extraor-
dinary appearances were conceived liable to cross
the steps and confound the projects of men at
every turn, and a malicious wizard or a powerful
enchanter might involve his unfortunate victim
in a chain of calamities, which no prudence could
disarm, and no virtue could deliver him from.
They were the slaves of an uncontrolable destiny,
and must therefore have been eminently deficient
in the perseverance and moral courage, which may
justly be required of us in a more enlightened age*
And the men (but these were few compared with
6 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
the great majority of mankind), who believed
themselves gifted with supernatural endowments,
must have felt exempt and privileged from com-
mon rules, somewhat in the same way as the per-
sons whom fiction has delighted to pourtray as
endowed with immeasurable wealth, or with the
power of rendering themselves impassive or invi-
sible. But, whatever were their advantages or
disadvantages, at any rate it is good for us to call
up in review things, which are now passed away,
but which once occupied so large a share of the
thoughts and attention of mankind, and in a great
degree tended to modify their characters and dic-
tate their resolutions.
As has already been said, numbers of those who
were endowed with the highest powers of human
intellect, such as, if they had lived in these times,
would have aspired to eminence in the exact
sciences, to the loftiest flights of imagination, or
to the discovery of means by which the institu-
tions of men in society might be rendered more
beneficial and faultless, at that time wasted the
midnight oil in endeavouring to trace the occult
qualities and virtues of things, to render invisible
spirits subject to their command, and to effect
those wonders, of which they deemed themselves
to have a dim conception, but which more rational
views of nature have taught us to regard as beyond
our power to effect. These sublime wanderings
of the mind are well entitled to our labour to trace
XIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 7
and investigate. The errors of man are worthy
to be recorded, not only as beacons to wsurn us
from the shelves where our ancestors hsive made
shipwreck, but even a^ something honourable to
our nature, to shew how high a generous ambition
could soar, though in forbidden paths, and in
things too wonderful for us.
Nor (Mily is this subject inexpressibly interest-
ing, as setting before us how the loftiest and most
enterprising minds of ancient days formerly busied
themselves. It is also of the highest importance
to an ingenuous curiosity, inasmuch as it vitally
affected the fortunes of so considerable a portion
of the mass of mankind. The legislatures of remote
ages bent all their severity at different periods
against what they deemed the unhallowed arts of
the sons and daughters of reprobation. Multi-
tudes of human creatures have been sacrificed in
different ages and countries, upon the accusation
of having exercised artiS of the most immoral and
sacrilegious character. They were supposed to
have formed a contract with a mighty and invisible
spirit, the great enemy of man, and to have sold
themselves, body and soul, to everlasting perdition,
for the sake of gratifying, for a short term of
years, their malignant passions against those who
had been so unfortunate as to give them cause of
offence. If there were any persons who imagined
they had entered into such a contract, however
erroneous wais their belief, they must of necessity
8 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
have been greatly depraved. And it was but
natural that such as believed in this crime, must
have considered it as atrocious beyond all others,
and have regarded those who were supposed guilty
of it with inexpressible abhorrence. There are
many instances on record, where the persons acr
cused of it, either from the depth of their delu-
sion, or, which is more probable, harassed by
persecution, by the hatred of their fellow-creatures
directed against them, or by torture, actually con-
fessed themselves guilty. These instances are too
numerous, not to constitute an important chapter
in the legislation of past ages. And, now that the
illusion has in a manner passed away from the face
of the earth, we are on that account the better
qualified to investigate this error in its causes and
consequences, and to look back on the tempest
and hurricane from which we have escaped, with
chastened feelings, and a sounder estimate of its
nature, its reign, and its effects.
AMBITIOUS NATURE OF MAN.
MAN is a creature of boundless ambition.
It is probably our natural wants that first awaken
us from that lethargy and indiflPerence in which man
may be supposed to be plunged previously to the
impulse of any motive, or the accession of any un-
easiness. One of our earliest wants may be con-
ceived to be hunger, or the desire of food.
From this simple beginning the history of man in
all its complex varieties may be regarded as pro-
ceeding.
Man in a state of society, more especially where
there is an inequality of condition and rank, is very
often the creature of leisure. He finds in himself,
either from internal or external impulse, a certain
activity. He finds himself at one time engaged in
the accomplishment of his obvious and immediate
desires, and at another in a state in which these
desires have for the present been fulfilled, and he
has no present occasion to repeat those exertions
which led to their fulfilment. This is the period
of contemplation. This is the state which most
eminently distinguishes us from the brutes* Here
it is that the history of man, in its exclusive sense,
may be considered as taking its beginning.
Here it is that he specially recognises in himself
the sense of power. Power in its simplest accep-
tation, may be exerted in either of two ways, either
10 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
in his procuring for himself an ample field for more
refined accommodations, or in the exercise of com-
pulsion and authority over other living creatures.
In the pursuit of either of these, and especially the
first, he is led to the attainment of skill and superior
adroitness in the use of his faculties.
No sooner has man reached to thip degree of
improvement, than now, if not indeed earlier, he
is induced to remark the extreme limitedness of his
faculties in respect to the future ; and he is led,
first earnestly to desire a clearer insight into the
future, and next a power of commanding those
external causes upon which the events of the future
depend. The first of these desires is the parent
of divination, augury, chiromancy, astrology, and
the consultation of oracles ; and the second has
been the prolific source of enchantment, witch-
craft, sorcery, magic, necromancy, and alchemy, in
its two branches, the unlimited prolongation of
human life, and the art of converting less precious
metals into gold.
HIS DESIRE TO PENETRATE INTO FUTURITY.
Nothing can suggest to us a more striking and
3tupendous idea of the faculties of the human mind,
than the consideration of the various a;rts by which
men have endeavoured to penetrkte into the future,
and to command the events of the future, in ways
that in sobriety and truth are entirely out of our
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS* 11
competence. We spurn impatiently against the
narrow limits which the constitution of things has
fixed to our aspirings, and endeavour by a multipli-
city of ways to accomplish that which it is totally
beyond the power of man to effect.
DIVINATION.
Divination has been principally employed in
inspecting the entrails of beasts offered for sacrifice,
and from their appearance drawing omens of the
good or ill success of the enterprises in which we
axe about to engage*
What the divination by the cup was which
Joseph practised, or pretended to practise, we do
not perhaps exactly understand. We all of us
know somewhat of the predictions, to this day re-
sorted to by maid-servants and others, from the
appearance of the sediment to be found at the
bottom of a tea-cup. Predictions of a similar sort
are formed from the unpremeditated way in which
we get out of bed in a morning, or put on our
garments, from the persons or things we shall
encounter when we first leave our chamber or go
forth in the air, or any of the indifferent accidents
of life.
AUGURY.
Augury has its foundation in observing the flight
12 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS*
of birds, the sounds they utter, their motions
whether sluggish or animated, and the avidity or
otherwise with which they appear to take their
food. The college of augurs was one of the most
solemn institutions of ancient Rome.
CHIROMANCY.
Chiromancy, or the art of predicting the various
fortunes of the individual, from an inspection of
the minuter variations of the lines to be found in
the palm of the human hand, has been used perhaps
at one time or other in all the nations of the world.
PHYSIOGNOMY.
Physiognomy is not so properly a prediction of
future events, as an attempt to explain the present
and inherent qualities of a man. By unfolding his
propensities however, it virtually gave the world to
understand the sort of proceedings in which he was
most likely to engage. The story of Socrates and
the physiognomist is sufficiently known. The
physiognomist having inspected the countenance
of the philosopher, pronounced that he was given
to intemperance, sensuality, and violent bursts of
passion, all of which was so contrary to his cha-
racter as universally known, that his disciples de-
rided the physiognomist as a vain-glorious pre-
tender. Socrates however presently put them to
XIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. IS
silence, by declaring that he had had an original
propensity to all the vices imputed to him, and
had only conquered the propensity by dint of a
severe and unremitted self-discipline.
INTERPRETATION OF DREAMS.
Oneirocriticism,or the art of interpreting dreams,
seems of all the modes of prediction the most in*
separable from the nature of man. A considerable
portion of every twenty-four hours of our lives is
spent in sleep ; and in sleep nothing is at least
more usual, than for the mind to be occupied in a
thousand imaginary scenes, which for the time are
as, realities, and often excite the passions of the
mind of the sleeper in no ordinary degree. Many of
them are wild and rambling ; but many also have a
portentous sobriety. Many seem to have a strict
connection with the incidents of our actual lives ;
and some appear as if they came for the very pur-
pose to warn us of danger, or prepare us for com-
ing events. It is therefore no wonder that these
occasionally fill our waking thoughts with a deep
interest, and impress upon us an anxiety of which
we feel it difficult to rid ourselves^ Accordingly,
in ages when men were more prone to superstition,
than at present, they sometimes constituted a
subject of earnest anxiety and inquisitiveness ; and
we find among the earliest exercises of the art of
prediction, the interpretation of dreams to have
14 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
occupied a principal place, and to have been as it
were reduced into a science.
CASTING OF LOTS.
The casting of lots seems i^carcely to come within
the enumeration here given. It was intended as
an appeal to heaven upon a question involved in
uncertainty, with the idea that the supreme Ruler
of the skiesv thus appealed to, would from his om-
niscience supply the defect of human knowledge.
Two examples, among others sufficiently remark-p
able, occur in the Bible. One of Achan, who
secreted part of the spoil taken in Jericho, which
was consecrated to the service of God, and who,
being taken by lot, confessed, and was stoned to
death*. The other of Jonah, upon whom the lot
fell in a mighty tempest, the crew of the ship en-
quiring by this means what was the cause of the
calamity that had overtaken them, and Jonah being
in consequence cast into the sea.
ASTROLOGY.
Astrology was one of the modes most -anciently
and universally resorted to for discovering the for-
tunes of men and nations. Astronomy and astro-
logy went hand in hand, particularly among the
• Joshua, vii. 16, et seq.
tlVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 15
people of the East. The idea of fate was most
especially bound up in this branch of prophecy.
If the fortune of a man was intimately connected
with the position of the heavenly bodies, it became
jBvident that little was left to the province of his
free will. The stars overruled him in all his deter-
minations ; and it was in vain for him to resist
them. There was something flattering to the
human imagination in conceiving that the planets
and the orbs on high were concerned in the con*
duct we should pursue, and the events that should
befal us. Man resigned himself to his fate with a
solemn, yet a lofty feeling, that the remotest por-
tions of the universe were concerned in the catas-
trophe that awaited him. Beside which, there was
something peculiarly seducing in the apparently
profound investigation of the professors of astro-
logy. They busied themselves with the actual
position of the heavenly bodies, their conjunctions
and oppositions ; and of consequence there was a
great apparatus of diagrams and calculation to
which they were prompted to apply themselves,
and which addressed itself to the eyes and imagina-
tions of those who consulted them.
ORACLES.
But that which seems to have had the greatest
vogue in times of antiquity, relative to the predic-
tion of ftiture events, is what is recorded of oracles.
^
16 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
Finding the insatiable curiosity of mankind as to
what was to happen hereafter, and the general de-
sire they felt to be guided in their conduct by an
anticipation of things to come, the priests pretty
generally took advantage of this passion, to increase
their emoluments and oflPerings, and the more
effectually to inspire the rest of their species with
veneration and a willing submission to their au-
thority. The oracle was delivered in a temple, or
some sacred place; and in this particular we plainly
discover that mixture of nature and art, of genuine
enthusiasm and contriving craft, which is so fre-
quently exemplified in the character of man.
DELPHI-
The oracle of Apollo at Delphi is the most re-
markable ; and respecting it we are furnished with
the greatest body of particulars. The locality of
this oracle is said to have been occasioned by the
following circumstance. A goat-herd fed his flocks
on the acclivity of mount Parnassus. As the ani-
mals wandered here and there in pursuit of food,
they happened to approach a deep and long chasm
which appeared in the rock. From this chasm a
vapour issued ; and the goats had no sooner in-
haled a portion of the vapour, than they began to
play and frisk about with singular agility. The
goat-herd, observing this, and curious to discover
the cause, held his head over the chasm; when, in
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 17
a short time, the fumes having ascended to his
brain, he threw himself into a variety of strange
attitudes, and uttered words, which probably he
did not understand himself, but which were sup-
posed to convey a prophetic meaning.
This phenomenon was taken advantage of, and
a temple to Apollo was erected on the spot. The
credulous many believed that here was obviously
a centre and focus of divine inspiration. On this
mountain Apollo was said to have slain the serpent
Python. The apartment of the oracle was imme-
diately over the chasm from which the vapour
issued. A priestess delivered the responses, who
was called Pythia, probably in commemoration of
the exploit which had been performed by Apollo.
She sat upon a tripod, or three-legged stool, per-
forated with holes, over the seat of the vapours.
After a time, her figure enlarged itself, her hair
stood on end, her complexion and features became
altered, her heart panted and her bosom swelled,
and her voice grew more than human. In this
condition she uttered a number of wild and in-
coherent phrases, which were supposed to be dic-
tated by the God. The questions which were
offered by those who came to consult the oracle
were then proposed to her, and her answers taken
down by the priest, whose* office was to arrange
and methodize them, and put them into hexa-
meter verse, after which they were delivered to
c
,f
18 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS,
the votaries. The priestess could only be con-
sulted on one day in every month.
Great ingenuity and contrivance were no doubt
required to uphold the credit of the oracle ; and
no less boldness and self-coUectedness on the part of
those by whom the machinery was conducted.
Like the conjurors of modern times, they took care
to be extensively informed as to all such matters
respecting which the oracle was likely to be con-
sulted. They listened probably to the Pythia with
a superstitious reverence for the incoherent sen-
tences she uttered. She, like them, spent her life
in being trained for the office to which she was
devoted. All that was rambling and inapplicable
in her wild declamation they consigned to oblivion.
Whatever seemed to bear on the question proposed
they preserved. The persons by whom the re-
sponses were digested into hexameter verse, had
of course a commission attended with great discre-
tionary power. They, as Horace remarks on
another occasion*, divided what it was judicious
to say, from what it was prudent to omit, dwelt
upon one thing, and slurred over and accommo-
dated another, just as would best suit the purpose
they had in hand. Beside this, for the most part
they clothed the apparent meaning of the oracle in
obscurity, and often devised sentences of ambigu-
ous interpretation, that might suit with opposite
» Pe Arte Poetica, v. 150.
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 19
issues, whichever might happen to fall out. 'Hiis
was perfectly consistent with a high degree of en-
thusiasm on the part of the priest. However con-
fident he might be in some things, he could not
but of necefiSisity feel that his prognostics were sur-
rounded with uncertainty. Whatever decisions of
the oracle were frustrated by the event, and we
know that there were many of this sort, were
speedily forgotten ; while those which succeeded,
were conveyed from shore to shore, and repeated
by every echo. Nor is it surprising that the trans-
mitters of the sentences of the God should in time
arrive at an extraordinary degree of sagacity and
skill. The oracles accordingly reached to so high
a degree of reputation, that, as Cicero observes,
n6 expedition for a long time was undertaken, no
colony sent out, and often no affair of any distin-
guished family or individual entered on, without
the previously obtaining their judgment and sanc-
tion. Their authority in a word was so high, that
the first fathers of the Christian church could no
otherwise account for a reputation thus universally
received, than by supposing that the devils were
permitted by God Almighty to inform the oracles
with a more than human prescience, that all the
world might be concluded in idolatry and unbe-
lief, and the necessity of a Saviour be made more
apparent. The gullibility of man is one of the
most prominent features of our nature. Various
^ Romans, xi. 32.
c 2
20 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
periods and times, when whole nations have as it
were with one consent run into the most incre-
dible and the grossest absurdities, perpetually oflPer
themselves in the page of history ; and in the re-
cords of remote antiquity it plainly appears that
such delusions continued through successive cen-
turies.
THE DESIRE TO COMMAND AND CONTROL FUTURE
EVENTS.
Next to the consideration of those measures by
which men have sought to dive into the secrets of
future time, the question presents itself of those
more daring undertakings, the object of which has
been by some supernatural power to control the
future, and place it in subjection to the will of the
iHilicensed adventurer. Men have always, espe-
cially in ages of ignorance, and when they most felt
their individual weakness, figured to themselves
an invisible strength greater than their own j and,
in proportion to their impatience, and the fer-
vour of their desires, have sought to enter into a
league with those beings whose mightier force
might supply that in which their weakness failed.
COMMERCE WITH THE INVISIBLE WORLD.
It is an essential feature of different ages and
countries to vary exceedingly in the good or ill
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 21
construction, the fame or dishonour, which shall
attend upon the same conduct or mode of beha-
viour. In Egypt and throughout the East, espe-
cially in the early periods of history, the supposed
commerce with invisible powers was openly pro-
fessed, which, under other circumstances, and
during the reign of different prejudices, was after-
wards carefully concealed, and barbarously hunted
out of the pale of allowed and authorised practice^
The Magi of old, who claimed a power of producing
miraculous appearances, and boasted a familiar
intercourse with the world of spirits, were regarded
by their countrymen with peculiar reverence,
and considered as the first and chiefest men in the
state. For this mitigated view of such dark and
mysterious proceedings the ancients were in a
great degree indebted to their polytheism. The
Romans are computed to have acknowledged
thirty thousand divinities, to all of whom was ren-
dered a legitimate homage ; and other countries in
a similar proportion.
SORCERY AND ENCHANTMENT.
In Asia, however, the Gods were divided into
two parties, under Oromasdes, the principle of
good, and Arimanius, the principle of evil. These
powers were in perpetual contention with each
other, sometimes the one, and sometimes the
other gaining the superiority. Arimanius and his
22 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
legions were therefore scarcely considered as en-
titled to the homage of mankind. Those who
were actuated by benevolence, and who desired to
draw down blessings upon their fellow-creatures,
addressed themselves to the principle of good ;
while such unhappy beings, with whom spite and
ill-will had the predominance, may be supposed
often to have invoked in preference the principle
of evil. Hence seems to have originated the idea
of sorcery, or an appeal by incantations and wicked
arts to the demons who delighted in mischief.
These beings rejoiced in the opportunity of
inflicting calamity and misery on mankind- But
by what we read of them we might be induced to
suppose that they were in some way restrained
from gratifying their malignant intentions, and
waited in eager hope, till some mortal reprobate
should call out their dormant activity, and demand
their aid.
Various enchantments were therefore employed
by those unhappy mortals whose special desire was
to bring down calamity and plagues upon the indi-
viduals or tribes of men against whom their animo-
sity was directed. Unlawful and detested words
and mysteries were called into action to conjure
up demons who should yield their powerful and
tremendous assistance. Songs of a wild and ma-
niacal character were chaunted. Noisome scents
and the burning of all unhallowed and odious
things were resorted to. In later times books and
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 23
formulas of a terrific character were commonly
employed, upon the reading or recital of which
the prodigies resorted to began to display them-
selves. The heavens were darkened ; the thunder
rolled ; and fierce and blinding lightnings flashed
from one corner of the heavens to the other.
The earth quaked and rocked from side to side.
All monstrous and deformed things shewed them-
selves, " Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimeras
dire,'' enough to cause the stoutest heart to quaiL
Lastly, devils, whose name was legion, and to
whose forms and distorted and menacing coun-
tenances superstition had annexed the most
frightful ideas, crowded in countless multitudes
upon the spectator, whose breath was flame, whose
dances were full of terror, and whose strength
infinitely exceeded every thing human. Such
were the appalling conceptions which ages of
bigotry and ignorance annexed to the notion of
sorcery, and with these they scared the unhappy
beings over whom this notion had usurped an as-
cendancy into lunacy, and prepared them for the
perpetrating flagitious and unheard-of deeds.
The result of these horrible incantations was
not less tremendous, than the preparations might
have led us to expect. The demons possessed all
the powers of the air, and produced tempests and
shipwrecks at their pleasure. " Castles toppled on
their warder's heads, and palaces and pyramids
sloped their summits to their foundations ;" forests
24 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
and mountains were torn from their roots, and
cast into the sea. They inflamed the passions of
men, and caused them to commit the most un-
heard-of excesses. They laid their ban on those
who enjoyed the most prosperous health, con-
demned them to peak and pine, wasted them into
a melancholy atrophy, and finally consigned them
to a premature grave. They breathed a new and
unblest life into beings in whom existence had long
been extinct, and by their hateful and resistless
power caused the sepulchres to give up their dead.
WITCHCRAFT.
Next to sorcery we may recollect the case of
witchcraft, which occurs oftener, particularly in
modern times, than any other alleged mode of
changing by supernatural means the future course
of events. The sorcerer, as we shall see here-
after, was frequently a man of learning and intel-
lectual abilities, sometimes of comparative opu-
lence and respectable situation in society. But
the witch or wizard was almost uniformly old, de-
crepid, and nearly or altogether in a state of penury.
The ftmctions however of the witch and the sor-
cerer were in a great degree the same. The earliest
account of a witch, attended with any degree of
detail, is that of the witch of Endor in the Bible,
who among other things, professed the power of
calling up the dead upon occasion from the peace
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 25
of the sepulchre. Witches also claimed the faculty
of raising storms, and in various ways disturbing
the course of nature. They appear in most cases to
have been brought into, action by the impulse of pri-
vate malice. They occasioned mortality of greater
or less extent in man and beast. They blighted
the opening prospect of a plentiful harvest. They
covered the heavens with clouds, and sent abroad
withering and malignant blasts. They undermined
the health of those who were so unfortunate as to
incur their animosity, and caused them to waste
away gradually with incurable disease. They were
notorious two or three centuries ago for the power
of the " evil eye.'* The vulgar, both great and
small, dreaded their displeasure, and sought, by
small gifts, and fair speeches, but insincere, and
the offspring of terror only, to avert the pernicious
consequences of their malice. They were famed
for fabricating small images of wax, to represent
the object of their persecution ; and, as these by
gradual and often studiously protracted degrees
wasted before the fire, so the unfortunate butts of
their resentment perished with a lingering, but in-
evitable death.
COMPACTS WITH THE DEVIL.
The power of these witches, as we find in their
earliest records, originated in their intercourse with
"familiar spirits," invisible beings whp must be
26 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
supposed to be enlisted in the armies of the prince
of darkness. We do not read in these ancient
memorials of any league of mutual benefit entered
into between the merely human party, and his or
her supernatural assistant. But modem times
have amply supplied this defect. The witch Of
sorcerer could not secure the assistance of the
demon but by a sure and faithful compact, by
which the human party obtained the industrious
and vigilant service of his familiar for a certain
term of years, only on condition thart, when the
term was expired, the demon of undoubted right
was to obtain possession of the indentured party,
and to convey him irremissibly and for ever to the
regions of the damned. The contract was drawn
out in authentic form, signed by the sorcerer, and
attested with his blood, and was then carried away
by the demon, to be produced again at the ap-
pointed time.
IMPS.
These familiar spirits often assumed the form of
animals, and a black dog or cat was considered as
a figure in which the attendant devil was secretly
hidden. These subordinate devils were called
Imps. Impure and carnal ideas were mingled with
these theories. The witches were said to have
preternatural teats from which theirfamiliars sucked
their blood. The devil also engaged in sexual in-
LiVES OF THE NRCROMANCBBS. 27
tercourse with the witch or wizard, being deno-
minated incvhiLSy if his favourite were a woman,
and succuhuSf if a man. In short, every frightful
and loathsome idea was carefully heaped up toge-
ther, to render the unfortunate beings to whom
the crime of witchcraft was imputed the horror
and execration of their species.
TALISMANS AND AMULETS.
As according to the doctrine of witchcraft, there
were certain compounds, and matters prepared by
rules of art, that proved baleftil and deadly to the
persons against whom their activity was directed,
so there were also preservatives, talismans, amulets
and charms, for the m6st^o be worn about the per-
son, which rendered him superior to injury, not
only from the operations of witchcraft, but in some
cases from the sword or any other mortal weapon.
As the poet says, he that had this.
Might trace huge forests and unhallowed headis, —
Yea there, where very desolation dwells,
By grots and caverns shagged with horrid shades,
nay, in the midst of every tremendous assailant,
" might pass on with unblenched majesty," unin-
jured and invulnerable.
NECROMANCY.
Last of all we may speak of necromancy, which
28 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
has something in it that so strongly takes hold of
the imagination, that, though it is one only of the
various modes which have been enumerated for
the exercise of magical power, we have selected it
to give a title to the present volume.
There is something sacred to common appre-
hension in the repose of the dead. They seem
placed beyond our power to disturb. " There is
no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom
in the grave.''
After life's fitful fever they sleep well :
Nor steel, nor poison,
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing.
Can touch them further.
Their remains moulder in the earth. Neither form
nor feature is long continued to them. We shrink
from their touch, and their sight. To violate the
sepulchre therefore for the purpose of unholy
spells and operations, as we read of in the annals
of witchcraft, cannot fail to be exceedingly shock-
ing. To call up the spirits of the departed, after
they have fulfilled the task of life, and are con-
signed to their final sleep, is sacrilegious. Well
may they exclaim, like the ghost of Samuel in the
sacred story, " Why hast thou disquieted me ?*'
There is a further circumstance in the case,
which causes us additionally to revolt from the
very idea of necromancy, strictly so called. Man
is a mortal, or an immortal being. His frame
either wholly " returns to the earth as it was, or
IiI\'18S OF THE NECROMANCERS. 29
his spirit/* the thinking principle within him, " to
God who gave it/* The latter is the prevailing
sentiment of mankind in modem times. Man is
placed upon earth in a state of probation, to be
dealt with hereafter according to the deeds done
in the flesh. " Some shall go away into everlast-
ing punishment ; and others into life eternal.'* In
this case there is something blasphemous in the
idea of intermedding with the state of the dead.
We must leave them in the hands of God. Even
on the idea of an interval, the " sleep of the soul"
from death to the general resurrection, which is
the creed of no contemptible sect of Christians,
it is surely a terrific notion that we should disturb
the pause, which upon that hypothesis, the laws of
nature have assigned to the departed soul, and come
to awake, or to " torment him before the time.*'
ALCHEMY.
To make our catalogue of supernatural doings,
and the lawless imaginations of man, the more
complete, it may be further necessary to refer to
the craft, so eagerly cultivated in successive ages
of the world of converting the inferior metals into
gold, to which was usually joined the elixir vitcB, or
universal medicine, having the quality of renewing
the youth of man, and causing him to live for ever.
The first authentic record on this subject is an
edict of Dioclesian about three hundred years after
30 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
Christ, ordering a diligent search to be made in
Egjrpt for all the ancient books which treated of
the art of making gold and silver, that they ittight
without distinction be= consigned to the flames.
This edict however necessarily presumes a certain
antiquity to the pursuit ; and fabulous history has
recorded Solomon, Pythagoras and Hermes among
its distinguished votaries. From this period the
study seems to have slept, till it was revived
among the Arabians after a lapse of five or six
hundred years.
It is well knov^n however how eagerly it was
cultivated in various countries of the world for
many centuries after it was divulged by Geber.
Men of the most wonderful talents devoted their
lives to the investigation ; and in multiplied in-
stances the discovery was said to have been com-
pleted. Vast sums of money were consumed
in the fruitless endeavour ; and in a later period it
seems to have furnished an excellent handle to
vain and specious projectors, to extort money
firoin those more amply provided with the goods
of fortune than themselves.
The art no doubt is in itself sufficiently mys-
tical, having been pursued by multitudes, who
seemed t(y themselves ever on the eve of consum-
mation, but as constantly baffled when to their
own apprehension most on the verge of success.
The discovery indeed appears upon the face of it
to be of the most delicate nature, as the benefit
\
WVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 31
must wholly depend upon its being reserved to
one or a very few, the object being unbounded
wealth, which is nothing unless confined. If the
power of creating gold is diffused, wealth by such
diffusion becomes poverty, and every thing after
a short time would but return to what it had been.
Add to which, that the nature of discovery has or-
dinarily been, that, when once the clue has been
found, it reveals itself to several about the same
period of time.
The art, as we have said, is in its own nature
sufficiently mystical, depending on nice combina-
tions and proportions of ingredients, and upon
the addition of each ingredient being made exactly
in the critical moment, and in the precise degree
of heat, indicated by the colour of the vapour
arising from the crucible or retort. This was
watched by the operator with inexhaustiWe pa-
tience ; and it was often found or suf^osed, that
the minutest error in this respect caused the most
promising appearances to fail of the expected suc-
cess. This circumstance no doubt occasionally
gave an opportunity to an artful impostor to ac-
count for his miscarriage, and thus to prevail upon
his credulous dupe to enable him to begin his
tedious experiment again.
But, beside this, it appears that those whose
object was the transmutation of metals, very fre-
quently joi»fid to this pursuit the study of astro-
32 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
logy, and even the practice of sorcery. So much
delicacy and nicety were supposed to be required
in the process for the transmutation of metals,
that it could not hope to succeed but under a
favourable conjunction of the planets; and the
most flourishing pretenders to the art boasted that
they had also a familiar intercourse with certain
spirits of supernatural power, which assisted them
in their undertakings, and enabled them to pene-
trate into things undiscoverable to mere human
sagacity, and to predict future events.
FAIRIES.
Another mode in which the wild and erratic
imagination of our ancestors manifested itself,
was in the creation of a world of visionary beings
of a less terrific character, but which did not fail
to annoy their thoughts, and perplex their deter-
minations, known by the name of Fairies.
There are few things more worthy of contempla-
tion, and that at the same time tend to place the
dispositions of our ancestors in a more amiable
point of view, than the creation of this airy and
fantastic race. They were so diminutive as almost
to elude the organs of human sight. They were
at large, even though confined to the smallest di-
mensions. They ** could be bounded in a nutshell,
and count themselves kings of infinite space.''
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 33
Their midnight revels, by a forest-side
Or fountain, the belated peasant saw,
Or dreamed he saw, while overhead the moon
Sat arbitress, and nearer to the earth
Wheeled her pale course — they, on their mirth and dance
Intent, with jocund music charmed his ear ;
At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.
Small circles marked the grass in solitary places,
the trace of their little feet, which, though narrow,
were ample enough to afford every accommodation
to their pastime.
The fairy tribes appear to have been every where
distinguished for their patronage of truth, simpli-
city and industry, and their abhorrence of sensu-
ality and prevarication. They left little rewards
in secret, as tokens of their approbation of the vir-
tues they loved, and by their supernatural power
afforded a supplement to pure and excellent inten-
tions, when the corporeal powers of the virtuous
sank under the pressure of human infirmity. Where
they conceived displeasure, the punishments they
inflicted were for the most part such as served mo-
derately to vex and harass the offending party,
rather than to inflict upon him permanent and irre-
mediable evils.
Their airy tongues would syllable men's names
On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses.
They were supposed to guide the wandering
lights, that in the obscurity of the night beguiled
the weary traveller " through bog, through bush,
through brake, through briar." But their power
34 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
of evil only extended, or was only employed, to
vex those who by a certain obliquity of conduct
gave occasion for their reproofs. They besides
pinched and otherwise tormented the objects of
their displeasure ; and, though the mischiefs they
executed were not of the most vital kind, yet,
coming from a supernatural enemy, and bemg in-
flicted by invisible hands, they could not fail greatly
to disturb and disorder those who sufferedfrom them.
There is at first sight a great inconsistency in
the representations of these imaginary people. For
the most part they are described to us as of a sta-
ture and appearance, almost too slight to be marked
by our grosser human organs. At other times
however, and especially in the extremely popular
tales digested by M.Perrault, they shew themselves
in indiscriminate assemblies, brought together for
some solemn festivity or otherwise, and join the
human frequenters of the scene, without occa-
sioning enquiry or surprise. They are particularly
concerned in the business of summarily and with-
out appeal bestowing miraculous gifts, sometimes
as a mark of special friendship and favour, and
sometimes with a malicious and hostile intention.
— But we are to consider that spirits
Can every form assume ; so soft
And uncompounded is their essence pure ;
Not tied or manacled with joint or limb,
Like cumbrous flesh ; but, in what shape they choose,
Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure.
Can execute their airy purposes,
And works of love or enmity fulfil.
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 35
And then again, as their bounties were shadowy,
so were they specially apt to disappear in a mo-
ment, the most splendid palaces and magnificent
exhibitions vanishing away, and leaving their dis-
concerted dupe with his robes converted into the
poorest rags, and, instead of glittering state, find-
ing himself suddenly in the midst of desolation,
and removed no man knew whither.
One of the mischiefs that were most frequently
imputed to them, was the changing the beautiful
child of some doating parents, for a babe marked
with ugliness and deformity. But this idea seems
fraught with inconsistency. The natural stature
of the fairy is of the smallest dimensions ; and,
though they could occasionally dilate their figure
so as to imitate humanity, yet it is to be presumed
that this was only for a special purpose, and, that
purpose obtained, that they shrank again habitually
into their characteristic littleness. The change
therefore can only be supposed to have been of
one human child for another.
ROSICRUCIANS.
Nothing very distinct has been ascertained re-
specting a sect, calling itself Rosicrucians. It is
said to have originated in the East from one of the
crusaders in the fourteenth century ; but it attracted
at least no public notice till the beginning of the
seventeenth century. Its adherents appear to have
D 2
36 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
imbibed their notions from the Arabians, and
claimed the possession of the philosopher's stone,
the art of transmuting metals, and the e/mV vitce.
SYLPHS AND GNOMES, SALAMANDERS AND
UNDINES.
But that for which they principally excited public
attention, was their creed respecting certain ele-
mentary beings, which to grosser eyes are invisible,
but were familiarly known to the initiated. To be
admitted to their acquaintance it was previously
necessary that the organs of human sight should
be purged by the universal medicine, and that
certain glass globes should be chemically prepared
with one or other of the four elements, and for one
month exposed to the beams of the sun. These
preliminary steps being taken, the initiated imme-
diately had a sight of innumerable beings of a lumi-
nous substance, but of thin and evanescent structure, -
that people the elements on all sides of us. Those
who inhabited the air were called Sylphs ; and those
who dwelt in the earth bore the name of Gnomes ;
such as peopled the fire were Salamanders ; and
those who made their home in the waters were
Undines. Each class appears to have had an ex-
tensive power in the elements to which they be-
longed. They could raise tempests in the air, and
storms at sea, shake the earth, and alarm the inha-
bitants of the globe with the sight of devouring
flames. These appear however to have been more
LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS. 37
formidable in appearance than in reality. And the
whole race was subordinate to man, and particularly
subject to the initiated. The gnomes, inhabitants
of the earth and the mines, liberally supplied to the
human beings with whom they conversed, the
hidden treasures over which they presided. The
four cljasses were some of them male, and some
female ; but the female sex seems to have prepon-
derated in all.
These elementary beings, we are told, were by
their constitution more long-lived than man, but
with this essential disadvantage, that at death they
wholly ceased to exist. In the mean time they
were inspired with an earnest desire for immor-
tality ; and there was one way left for them, by
which this desire might be gratified. If they were
so happy as to awaken in any of the initiated a
passion the end of which was marriage, then the
sylph who became the bride of a virtuous man, fol-
lowed his nature, and became immortal ; while on
the other hand, if she united herself to an im-
moral being and a profligate, the husband followed
the law of the wife, and was rendered entirely
mortal. The initiated however were required, as a
condition to their being admitted into the secrets
of the order, to engage themselves in a vow of per-
petual chastity as to women. And they were
abundantly rewarded by the probability of being
united to a sylph, a gnome, a salamander, or an
undine, any one of whom was inexpressibly more
38 LIVES OF THE NECROMANCERS.
enchanting than the most beautiful woman, in ad-
dition to which her charms were in a manner per-
petual, while a wife of our own nature is in a
short time destined to wrinkles, and all the other
disadvantages of old age. The initiated of course
enjoyed a beatitude infinitely greater than that
which falls to the lot of ordinary mortals, being
<^onscious of a perpetual commerce with these
wonderful beings from whose society the vulgar
are debarred, and having such associates uninter-
mittedly anxious to perform their behests, and
anticipate their desires*.
We should have taken but an imperfect survey
of the lawless extravagancies of human imagination^
if we had not included a survey of this sect. There
is something particularly soothing to the fancy of
an erratic mind, in the conception of being- con-
versant with a race of beings the very existence of
which is unperceived by ordinary mortals, and
thus entering into an infinitely numerous and
variegated society, even when we are apparently
swallowed up in entire solitude.
The Rosicrucians are further entitled to our
special notice, as their tenets have had the good for-
tune to furnish Pope with the beautiful machinery
with which he has adorned the Rape of the Lock.
There is also, of much later date, a wild and poeti-
cal fiction for which we are indebted to the same
source, called Undine, from the pen of Lamotte
Fouquet.
» Comte de Gabalis.
EXAMPLES FROM THE BIBLE. 39
EXAMPLES OF NECROMANCY AND WITCHCRAFT
FROM THE BIBLE.
The oldest and most authentic record from
which we can derive our ideas on the subject of
necromancy and witchcraft, unquestionably is the
Bible. The Egyptians and Chaldeans were early
distinguished for their supposed proficiency in
magic, in the production of supernatural pheno-
mena, and in penetrating into the secrets of future
time. The first appearance of men thus extraor-
dinarily gifted, or advancing pretensions of this
sort, recorded in Scripture, is on occasion of
Pharoah's dream of the seven years of plenty, and
seven years of famine. At that period the king
" sent and called for all the magicians of Egypt and
all the wise men ; but they could not interpret
the dream*," which Joseph afterwards expounded.
Their second appearance was upon a most
memorable occasion, when Moses and Aaron,
armed with miraculous powers, came to a subse-
quent king of Egjrpt, to demand from him that
their countrymen might be permitted to depart to
another tract of the world. They produced a
miracle as the evidence of their divine mission :
and the king, who was also named Pharoah,
* Genesis, xli. 8, 25, &c.
40 EXAMPLES FROM THE BIBLE.
** called before him the wise men and the sorcerers
of Egypt, who with their enchantments did in like
manner** as Moses had done ; till, after some ex-
periments in which they were apparently success-
ful, they at length were compelled to allow them-
selves overcome, and fairly to confess to their
master, " This is the finger of God^ !**
The spirit of the Jewish history loudly affirms,
that the Creator of heaven and earth had adopted
this nation for his chosen people, and therefore
demanded their exclusive homage, and that they
should acknowledge no other God, It is on this
principle that it is made one of his early com-
mands to them, " Thou shalt not suffisr a witch to
live%'' And elsewhere the meaning of this pro-
hibition is more fully explained : " There shall not
be found among you any one that useth divination,
or an observer of times, or an enchanter, or a witch,
or a charmer, or a consulter with familiar spirits, or
a wizard, or a necromancer'' : these shall surely be
put to death ; they shall stone them with stones%**
The character of an enchanter is elsewhere
more fully illustrated in the case of Balaam, the
soothsayer, who was sent for by Balak, the king of
Moab, that he might ** curse the people of Israel.
The messengers of the king came to Balaam with
the rewards of divination in their hand^ ;" but the
^ Exodus, vii. 11 ; viii. 19. *= Ibid, xxii. 18.
** Deuteronomy, xviii. 10, 11. « Leviticus, xx. 27.
^ Numbers, xxii. 5, 6, 7.
EXAMPLES FROM THE BIBLE, 41
soothsayer was restrained from his purpose by the
God of the Jews, and, where he came to curse,
was compelled to bless. He therefore •* did not
go, as at other times, to seek for enchantments'^,'*
but took up his discourse, and began, saying,
'* Surely there is no enchantment against Jacob,
neither is there any divination against Israel'' !"
Another example of necromantic power or pre-
tension is to be found in the story of Saul and the
witch of Endor. Saul, the first king of the Jews,
being rejected by God, and obtaining " no answer
to his enquiries, either by dreams, or by prophets,
said to his servants, seek me a woman that has a
familiar spirit. And his servants, said, Lo, there is
a woman that has a familiar spirit at Endor/' Saul
accordingly had recourse to her. But, previously
to this time, in conformity to the law of God, he
** had cut off those that had familiar spirits, and
the wizards out of the land ;'* and the woman
therefore was terrified at his present application,
Saul re-assured her ; and in consequence the wo-
man consented to call up the person he should
name Saul demanded of her to bring up the
ghost of Samuel. The ghost, whether by her en-
chantments or through divine interposition we are
not told, appeared, and prophesied to Saul, that
he and his son should fall in battle on the succeed-
ing day', which accordingly came to pass.
» Numbers, xxiv. 1. ^ Ibid, xxiii. 23.
' 1 Sam. xxviii. 6, et seq.
42 EXAMPLES FROM THE BIBLE,
Manasseh, a subsequent king in^ Jerusalem,
^* observed times, and used enchantments, and
dealt with familiar spirits and wizards, and so pro-
yoked God to anger''/*
It appears plainly from the same authority, that
there were good spirits and evil spirits, ^* The
Lord said, Who shall persuade Ahab, that he may
go up, and fall before Ramoth Gilead ? And there
came a spirit, and stood before the Lord, and said,
I will persuade him : I will go forth, and be a
lying spirit in the mouth of all his prophets, An4
the Lord said. Thou shalt persuade him^''
In like manner, we are told, " Satan stood up
against Israel, and provoked David to number the
people ; and God was displeased with the thing,
and smote Israel, so that there fell of the people
seventy thousand men"*/'
Satan also, in the Book of Job, presented him-
self before the Lord among the Sons of God, and
asked and obtained leave to try the faithfulness of
Job by " putting forth his hand,'' and despoiling
the patriarch of " all that he had/'
Taking these things into consideration, there
can be no reasonable doubt, though the devil and
Satan are not mentioned in the story, that the serr
pent who in so crafty a way beguiled Eve, was in
reality no other than the malevolent enemy of
mankind under that disguise.
^ 2 Kings, xxi. 6. * 1 Kings, xxii. 20, et seqq,
«n 1 Chron. xxi. 1, 7, 14.
EXAMPLES FROM THE BIBLE, 43
We are in the same manner informed of the
oracles of the false Gods ; and an example occurs
of a king of Samaria, who fell sick, and who " sent
messengers, and said to them, Go, and enquire of
Baalzebub, the God of Ekron, whether I shall re-
cover of this disease.*' At which proceeding the
God of the Jews was displeased, and sent Elijah to
the messengers to say, " Is it because there is not
a God in Israel, that you go to enquke of Baalze-
bub, the God of Ekron ? Because the king has
done this, he shall not recover; he shall surely
die"/'
The appearance of the Wise Men of the East
again occurs in considerable detail in the Prophecy
of Daniel, though they are only brought forward
there, as discoverers of hidden things, and inter-
preters of dreams. Twice, on occasion of dreams
that troubled him, Nebuchadnezzar, king of Baby-
lon, " commanded to be called to him the magi-
cians, and the astrologers, and the sorcerers, and
the Chaldeans'' of his kingdom, and each time with
similar success. They confessed their incapacity ;
and Daniel, the prophet of the Jews, expounded to
the king that in which they had failed. Nebuchad-
nezzar in consequence promoted Daniel to be
master of the magicians. A similar scene occurred
in the court of Belshazzar, the son of Nebuchad-
nezzar, in the case of the hand-writing on the wall,
" 2 Kings, i. 2, 3, 4.
44 THE MAGI.
It is probable that the Jews considered the Gods
of the nations around them as so many of the fallen
angels, or spirits of hell, since, among other argu-
ments, the coincidence of the name of Beelze-
bub, the prince of devils", with Baalzebub, the
God of Ekron, could scarcely have fallen out by
chance.
It seemed necessary to enter into these par-
ticulars, as they occur in the oldest and most
authentic records from which we can derive our
ideas on the subject of necromancy, witchcraft, and
the claims that were set up in ancient times to the
exercise of magcial power. Among these examples
there is only one, that of the contention for supe-
riority between Moses and the Wise Men of Egypt
in which we are presented with their pretensions
to a visible exhibition of supernatural effects.
THE MAGI, OR WISE MEN OF THE EAST.
The Magi, or Wise Men of the East, extended
their ramifications over Egypt, Babylonia, Persia,
India, and probably, though with a different name,
over China, and indeed the whole known world.
Their profession was of a mysterious nature. They
laid claim to a familiar intercourse with the Gods.
They placed themselves as mediators between
heaven and earth, assumed the prerogative of re-
o Matthew, xii. 24.
THE MAGI. 45
vealing the will of beings of a nature superior to
man, and pretended to shew wonders and prodigies
that surpassed any power which was merely human.
To understand this, we must bear in mind the
state of knowledge in ancient times, where for the
most part the cultivation of the mind, and an ac-
quaintance with either science or art, were con-
fined to a very small part of the population. In
each of the nations we have mentioned, there was
a particular caste or tribe of men, who, by the pre-
rogative of their birth, were entitled to the advan-
tages of science and a superior education, while
the rest of their countrymen were destined to sub-
sist by manual labour. This of necessity gave
birth in the privileged few to an overweening
sense of their own importance. They scarcely
regarded the rest of their countrymen as beings of
the same species with themselves ; and, finding a
strong line of distinction cutting them off from the
herd, they had recourse to every practicable me-
thod for making that distinction still stronger.
Wonder is one of the most obvious means of gene-
rating deference ; and, by keeping to themselves
the grounds and process of their skill, and present-
ing the results only, they were sure to excite the
admiration and reverence of their contemporaries.
This mode of proceeding further produced a re-ac-
tion upon themselves. That which supplied and
promised to supply to them so large a harvest of
honour and fame, unavoidably became precious in
46 EGYPT.
their eyes. They pursued their discoveries with
avidity, because few had access to their opportu-
nities in that respect, and because, the profounder
were their researches, the more sure they were of
being looked up to by the public as having that in
them which was sacred and inviolable. They spent
their days and nights in these investigations. They
shrank from no privation and labour. At the
same time that in these labours they had at all times
an eye to their darling object, an ascendancy over
the minds of their countrymen at large, and the
extorting from them a blind and implicit deference
to their oracular decrees. They however loved
their pursuits for the pursuits themselves. They
felt their abstraction and their unlimited nature,
and on that account contemplated them with ad-
miration. They valued them (for such is the in-
destructible character of the human mind) for the
pains they had bestowed on them. The sweat of
their brow grew into a part as it were of the in-
trinsic merit of the articles ; and that which had
with so much pains been attained by them, they
could not but regard as of inestimable worth.
EGYPT.
The Egjrptians took the lead in early antiquity,
with respect to civilisation and the stupendous
productions of human labour and art, of all other
known nations of the world. The pyramids stand
EGYPT. 47
by themselves as a monument of the industry of
mankind. Thebes, with her hundred gates, at each
of which we are told she could send out at once
two hundred chariots and ten thousand warriors
completely accoutred, was one of the noblest
cities on record. The whole country of Lower
Egypt was intersected with canals giving a benefi-
cent direction to the periodical inundations of the
Nile ; and the artificial lake Moeris was dug of a
vast extent, that it might draw off the occasional
excesses of the overflowings of the river. The
Egyptians had an extraordinary custom of pre-
serving their dead, so that the country was peopled
almost as numerously with mummies prepared
by extreme assiduity and skill, as with the living.
And, in proportion to their edifices and labours
of this durable sort, was their unwearied applica-
tion to all the learning that was then known.
Geometry is said to have owed its existence to the
necessity under which they were placed of every
man recognising his own property in land, as soon
as the overflowings of the Nile had ceased. They
were not less assiduous in their application to astro-
nomy. The hierogljrphics of Egypt are of universal
notoriety. Their mythology was of the most com-
plicated nature. Their Gods were infinitely varied
in their kind; and the modes of their worship
not less endlessly diversified. All these particulars
still contributed to the abstraction of their studies,
and the loftiness of their pretensions to knowledge.
48 EGYPT.
They perpetually conversed with the invisible'
world, and laid claim to the faculty of revealing
things hidden, of foretelling future events, and
displaying wonders that exceeded human power to
produce,
A striking illustration of the state of Egypt in
that respect in early times, occurs incidentally in the
history of Joseph in the Bible. Jacob had twelve
sons, among whom his partiality for Joseph was so
notorious, that his brethren out of envy sold him
as a slave to the wandering Midianites. Thus it
was his fortune to be placed in Egypt, where in
the process of events he became the second man in
the country, and chief minister of the king. A
severe famine having visited these climates, Jacob
sent his sons into Egypt to buy com, where only
it was to be found. As soon as Joseph saw them,
he knew them, though they knew not him in his
exalted situation ; and he set himself to devise
expedients to settle them permanently in the
country in which he ruled. Among the rest he
caused a precious cup from his stores to be privily
conveyed into the com-sack of Benjamin, his only
brother by the same mother. The brothers were
no sooner departed, than Joseph sent in pursuit of
them ; and the messengers accosted them with the
words, " Is not this the cup in which my lord
drinketh, and whereby also he divineth ? Ye have
done evil in taking it away\*' They brought the
* Genesis, xliv. 5.
EGYPT. 49
strangers again into the presence of Joseph, who
addressed them with severity, saying, " What is
this deed that ye have done ? Wot ye not that
such a man as I could certainly divine^ ?'*
From this story it plainly appears, that the art
of divination was extensively exercised in Egypt,
that the practice was held in honour, and that
such was the state of the country, that it was to
be presumed as a thing of course, that a man of
the high rank and distinction of Joseph should
professedly be an adept in it.
In the great contention for supernatural power
between Moses and the magicians of Egypt, it is
plain that they came forward with confidence, and
did not shrink from the debate. Moses's rod was
turned into a serpent ; so were their rods : Moses
changed the waters of Eg}'^pt into blood ; and the
magicians did the like with their enchantments :
Moses caused frogs to come up, and cover the
land of Egypt ; and the magicians also brought
frogs upon the country. Without its being in any
way necessary to enquire how they effected these
wonders, it is evident from the whole train of the
narrative, that they must have been much in the
practice of astonishing their countrymen with their
feats in such a kind, and, whether it were delusion,
or to whatever else we may attribute their success,
that they were universally looked up to for the
extraordinariness of their performances.
*» Genesis, xliv. 15.
50 STATUE OF MEMNON,
While we are on this subject of illustrations
from the Bible, it may be worth while to revert
more particularly to the story of Balaam. Balak
the king of Moab, sent for Balaam that he
might come and curse the invaders of his country;
and in the sequel we are told, when the prophet
changed his curses into a blessing, that he did not
** go forth, as at other times, to seek for enchant-
ments/* It is plain therefore that Balak did not
rely singly upon the eloquence and fervour of
Balaam to pour out vituperations upon the people
of Israel, but that it was expected that the pro-
phet should use incantations and certain mystical
rites, upon which the efficacy of his foretelling
disaster to the enemy principally depended.
STATUE OF MEMNON.
The Magi of Eg}'pt looked round in every
quarter for phenomena that might produce as-
tonishment among their countrymen, and induce
them to believe that they dwelt in a land which
overflowed with the testimonies and presence of a
divine power. Among others the statue of Mem-
non, erected over his tomb near Thebes, is re-
corded by many authors. Memnon is said to
have been the son of Aurora, the Goddess of the
morning ; and his statue is related to hav^ had
the peculiar faculty of uttering a melodious sound
every morning when touched by the first beams of
TEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON. 51
(Jay, as if to salute his mother ; and every night at
sunset to have imparted another sound, low and
mournful, as lamenting the departure of the day.
This prodigy is spoken of by Tacitus, Strabo, Ju-
venal and Philostratus, The statue uttered these
sounds, while perfect ; and, when it was mutilated
by human violence, or by a convulsion of nature,
it still retained the property with which it had
been originally endowed. Modern travellers, for
the same phenomenon has still been observed,
have asserted that it does not owe its existence to
any prodigy, but to a property of the granite, of
which the statue or its pedestal is formed, which,
being hollow, is found in various parts of the
world to exhibit this quality. It has therefore
been suggested, that the priests, having ascer-
tained its peculiarity, expressly formed the statue
of that material, for the purpose of impressing on
it a supernatural character, and thus being enabled
to extend thdr influence with a credulous people*.
TEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON: ITS ORACLES.
Anotherof what may be considered as the wonders
of Egypt, is the temple of Jupiter Ammon in the
midst of the Great Desert. This temple was situ-
ated at a distance of no less than twelve days* journey
from Memphis, the capital of the Lower Egypt.
The principal part of this space consisted of one
* Brewster on Natural Magic, Letter IX.
E 2
52 TEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON.
immense tract of moving sand, so hot as to be inr
tolerable to the sole of the foot, while the air was
pregnant with fire, so that it was almost impossible
to breathe in it. Not a drop of water, not a tree,
not a blade of grass, was to be found through this
vast surface. It was here that Cambyses, engaged
in an impious expedition to demolish the temple, is
said to have lost an army of fifty thousand men,
buried in the sands. When you arrived however,
you were presented with a wood of great circum-
ference, the foliage of which was so thick that the
beams of the sun could not pierce it Theatmosr
phere of the place was of a delicious temperature ;
the scene was every where interspersed with foun-
tains ; and all the fruits of the earth were found in
the highest perfection. In the midst was the tem^
pie and oracle of the God, who was worshipped in
the likeness of a ram. The Egyptian priests chose
this site as furnishing a test of the zeal of their vota^
ries; the journey being like the pilgrimage to Jeru^
salem or Mecca, if not from so great a distance,
yet attended in many respects with perils more
formidable. It was not safe to attempt the pas-
sage but with moderate numbers, and those ex-
pressly equipped for expedition.
Bacchus is said to have visited this spot in his
great expedition to the East, when Jupiter ap-
peared to him in the form of a ram, having struck
his foot upon the soU, and for the first time occa-
sioned that supply of water, with which the place
TEMPLE OF JUPITER AMMON. 53
was ever after plentifully supplied. Alexander
the Great in a subsequent age undertook the
same journey with his army, that he might cause
himself to be acknowledged for the son of the
God, under which character he was in all due form
recognised. The priests no doubt had heard of
the successful battles of the Granicus and of Issus,
of the capture of Tyre after a seven months' siege,
and of the march of the great conqueror in Egypt,
where he carried every thing before him.
Here we are presented with a striking specimen
of the mode and spirit in which the oracles of old
were accustomed to be conducted. It may be
said that the priests were corrupted by the rich
presents which Alexander bestowed on them with
a liberal hand. But this was not the prime impulse
in the business. They were astonished at the
daring with which Alexander with a comparative
handful of men set out from Greece, having medi-
tated the overthrow of the great Persian empire.
They were astonished with his perpetual success,
and his victorious progress from the Hellespont to
mount Taurus, from mount Taurus to Pelusium,
and from Pelusium quite across the ancient king-
dom of Egypt to the Palus Mareotis. Accus-
tomed to the practice of adulation, and to the
belief that mortal power and true intellectual great-
ness were the same, they with a genuine enthu-
siastic fervour regarded Alexander as the son of
their God, and acknowledged him as such.-*-
5^ . CHALDEA AND BABYLON.
Nothing can be more memorable than the way in
which belief and unbelief hold a divided empire
over the human mind, our passions hurrying us
into belief, at the same time that our intervals of
sobriety suggest to us that it is all pure imposition.
GHALDEA AND BABYLON.
The history of the Babylonish monarchy not
having been handed down to us, except inciden-
tally as it is touched upon by the historians of
other countries, we know little of those anecdotes
respecting it which are best calculated to illustrate
the habits and manners of a people. We know that
they in probability preceded all other nations in
the accuracy of their observations on the pheno-
mena of the heavenly bodies. We know that the
Magi were highly respected among them as an
order in the state ; and that, when questions oc-
curred exciting great alarm in the rulers, " the
magicians, the astrologers, the sorcerers, land the
Chaldeans,'' were called together, to see whether
by their arts they could throw light upon questions
so mysterious and perplexing, and we find suf-
ficient reason, both from analogy, and from the very
circumstance that sorcerers are specifically named
among the classes of which their Wise Men con-
sisted, to believe that the Babylonian Magi ad-
vanced no dubious pretensions to the exercise of
magical power.
ZOROASTER. 55
ZOROASTER.
Among the Chaldeans the most famous name is
that of Zoroaster, who is held to have been the
author of their religion, their civil policy, their
sciences, and their magic. He taught the doc-
trine of two great principles, the one the author
of good, the other of evil. He prohibited the use
of images in the ceremonies of religion, and pro-
nounced that nothing deserved homage but fire,
and the sun, the centre and the source of fire,
and these perhaps to be venerated not for them-
selves, but as emblematical of the principle of all
good things. He taught astronomy and astro-
logy. We may with sufficient probability infer his
doctrines from those of the Magi, who were his
followers. He practised enchantments, by means
of which he would send a panic among the forces
that were brought to make war against him, ren-
dering the conflict by force of arms unnecessary.
He prescribed the use of certain herbs as all-pow-
erful for the production of supernatural effects.
He pretended to the faculty of working miracles,
and of superseding and altering the ordinary
course of nature. — There was, beside the Chal-
dean Zoroaster, a Persian known by the same
name, who is said to have been a contemporary of
Darius Hystaspes.
57
GREECE.
Thus obscure and general is our information re-
specting the Babylonians. But it was far otherwise
with the Greeks. Long before the period, when,
by their successful resistance to the Persian inva-
sion, they had rendered themselves of paramount
importance in the history of the civilised world,
they had their poets and annalists, who preserved
to future time the memory of their tastes, their
manners and superstitions, their strength, and
their weakness. Homer in particular had already
composed his two great poems, rendering the pe-
culiarities of his countrymen familiar to the latest
posterity. The consequence of this is, that the
wonderful things of early Greece are even more
frequent than the record of its sober facts. As
men advance in observation and experience, they
are compelled more and more to perceive that all
the phenomena of nature are one vast chain of un-
interrupted causes and consequences : but to the
eye of uninstructed ignorance every thing is asto-
nishing, every thing is unexpected. The remote
generations of mankind are in all cases full of pro-
digies : but it is the fortune of Greece to have
preserved its early adventures, so as to render the
beginning pages of its history one mass of impos-
sible falshoods.
58 DEITIES OF GREECE.
DEITIES OF GREECE.
The Gods of the Greeks appear all of them once
to have been men. Their real or supposed adven-
tures therefore make a part of what is recorded
respecting them. Jupiter was bom in Crete, and
being secreted by his mother in a cave, was
suckled by a goat. Being come to man's estate,
he warred with the giants, one of whom had an
hundred hands, and two others brethren, grew
nine inches every month, and, when nine years
old, were fully qualified to engage in all exploits
of corporeal strength. The war was finished, by
the giants being overwhelmed with the thunder-
bolts of heaven, and buried under mountains.
Minerva was bom from the head. of her father,
without a mother ; and Bacchus, coming into the
world after the death of his female parent, was
inclosed in the thigh of Jupiter, and was thus
produced at the proper time in full vigour and
strength. Minerva had a shield, in which was
preserved the real head of Mediisa, that had the
property of turning every one that looked on it
into stone. Bacchus, when a child, was seized on
by pirates with the intention to sell him for a
slave : but he waved a spear, and the oars of the
sailors were turned into vines, which climbed the
masts, and spread their clusters over the sails ;
and tigers, lynxes and panthers, appeared to swim
round the ship, so terrifying the crew that they
DEITIES OF GREECE. 59
leaped overboard, and were changed into dolphins.
Bacchus, in his maturity, is described as having
been the conqueror of India. He did not set out
on this expedition like other conquerors, at the
head of an army. He rode in an open chariot,
which was drawn by tame lions* His attendants
were men and women in great multitudes, emi-
nently accomplished in the arts of rural industry.
Wherever he came, he taught men the science
of husbandry, and the cultivation of the vine.
Wherever he came, he was received, not with
hostility, but with festivity and welcome. On his
return however, Lycurgus, king of Thrace, and
Pentheus, king of Thebes, set themselves in oppo-
sition to the improvements which the East had
received with the most lively gratitude; and
Bacchus, to punish them, caused Lycurgus to be
torn to pieces by wild horses, and spread a delusion
among the family of Pentheus, so that they mis-
took him for a wild boar which had broken into
their vineyards, and of consequence fell upon him,
and he expired amidst a thousand wounds.
Apollo was the author of plagues and con-
tagious diseases ; at the same time that, when
he pleased, he could restore salubrity to a cli-
mate, and health and vigour to the sons of men.
He' was the father of poetry, and possessed in
an eminent degree the gift of foretelling future
events. Hecate, which' was one of the names of
Diana, was distinguished as the Goddess of magic
60 DEITIES OF GREECE.
and enchantments. Venus was the Goddess of
love, the most irresistible and omnipotent impulse
of which the heart of man is susceptible. The
wand of Mercury was endowed with such virtues,
that whoever it touched, if asleep, would start up
into life and alacrity, and, if awake, would im-
mediately fall into a profound sleep. When it
touched the dying, their souls gently parted from
their mortal frame ; and, when it was applied to
the dead, the dead returned to life. Neptune had
the attribute of raising and appeasing tempests :
and Vulcan, the artificer of heaven and earth, not
only produced the most exquisite specimens of
skill, but also constructed furniture that was en-
dowed with a self-moving principle, and would
present itself for use or recede at the will of its
proprietor. Pluto, in perpetrating the rape of
Proserpine, started up in his chariot through a
cleft of the earth in the vale of Enna in Sicily,
and, having seized his prize, disappeared again by
the way that he came.
Ceres, the mother of Proserpine, in her search
after her lost daughter, was received with peculiar
hospitality by Celeus, king of Eleusis. She became
desirous of remunerating his liberality by some
special favour. She saw his only child laid in a
cradle, and labouring under a fatal distemper.
She took him under her protection. She fed him
with milk from her own breast, and at night
covered him with coals of fire. Under this treat-
DEITIES OF GREECE. 6l
ment he not only recovered his strength, but shot
up miraculously into manhood, so that what in
other men is the effect of years, was accomplished
in Triptolemus in as many hours. She gave him
for a gift the art of agriculture, so that he is said to
have been the first to teach mankind to sow and to
reap corn, and to make bread of the produce.
Prometheus, one of the race of the giants, was
peculiarly distinguished for his proficiency in the
arts. Among othpr extraordinary productions he
formed a man of clay, of such exquisite workman-
ship, as to have wanted nothing but a living soul
to cause him to be acknowledged as the paragon of
the world. Minerva beheld the performance of
Prometheus with approbation, and offered him her
assistance. She conducted him to heaven, where
he watched his opportunity to carry off on the tip
of his wand a portion of celestial fire from the
chariot of the sun. With this he animated his
image ; and the man of Prometheus moved, and
thought, and spoke, and became every thing that
the fondest wishes of his creator could ask. Ju-
piter ordered Vulcan to make a woman, that
should surpass this man. All the Gods gave her
each one a several gift : Venus gave her the
power to charm ; the Graces bestowed on her
symmetry of limb, and elegance of motion ; Apollo
the accomplishments of vocal and instrumental
music ; Mercury the art of persuasive speech ;
Juno a multitude of rich and gorgeous ornaments ;
62 DEMIGODS.
and Minerva the management of the loom and
the needle. Last of all, Jupiter presented her
with a sealed box, of which the lid was no sooner
unclosed, than a multitude of calamities and evils
of all imaginable sorts flew out, only Hope re-
maining at the bottom.
Deucalion was the son of Prometheus and
Pyrrha, his niece. They married. In their time
a flood occurred, which as they imagined destroyed
the whole human race ; they were the only sur-
vivors. By the direction of an oracle they cast
stones over their shoulders ; when, by the divine
interposition, the stones cast by Deucalion became
men, and those cast by Pyrrha women. Thus the
earth was re-peopled.
I have put down a few of these particulars,
as containing in several instances the qualities of
what is called magic, and thus furnishing examples
of some of the earliest occasions upon which su-
pernatural powers have been alleged to mix with
human afiairs.
DEMIGODS.
The early history of mortals in Greece is scarcely
separated from that of the Gods. The first ad-
venturer that it is perhaps proper to notice, as his
exploits have I know not what of magic in them,
is Perseus, the founder of the metropolis and king-
dom of Mycenae. By way of rendering his birth
DEMIGODS. 63
illustrious, he is said to have been the son of
Jupiter, by Danae, the daughter of Acrisius, king
of Argos. The king, being forewarned by an
oracle that his daughter should bear a son, by
whose hand her father should be deprived of life,
thought proper to shut her up in a tower of brass.
Jupiter, having metamorphosed himself into a
shower of gold, found his way into her place of
confinement, and became the father of Perseus.
On the discovery of this circumstance, Acrisius
caused both mother and child to be inclosed in a
chest, and committed to the waves. The chest
however drifted upon the lands of a person of
royal descent in the island of Seriphos, who ex-
tended his care and hospitality to both. When
Perseus grew to man's estate, he was commissioned
by the king of Seriphos to bring him the head of
Medusa, one of the Gorgons. Medusa had the
wonderful faculty, that whoever met her eyes was
immediately turned into stone ; and the king, who
had conceived a passion for Danae, sent her son
on this enterprise, with the hope that he would
never come back alive. He was however fa-
voured by the Gods ; Mercury gave him wings to
fly, Pluto an invisible helmet, and Minerva a
mirror- shield, by looking in which he could dis-
cover how his enemy was disposed, without the
danger of meeting her eyes. Thus equipped, he
accomplished his undertaking, cut off the head of
the Gorgon, and pursed it in a bag. From this
64 D.EDALUS.
exploit he proceeded to visit Atlas, king of Mau*
ritania, who refused him hospitality, and in re-
venge Perseus turned him into stone. He next
rescued Andromeda, daughter of the king of
Ethiopia, from a monster sent by Neptune to
devour her. And, lastly, returning to his mother,
and finding the king of Seriphos still incredulous
and obstinate, he turned him likewise into a stone.
The labours of Hercules, the most celebrated of
the Greeks of the heroic age, appear to have had
little of magic in them, but to have been indebted
for their success to a corporal strength, superior to
that of all other mortals, united with an invincible
energy of mind, which disdained to yield to any
obstacle that could be opposed to him. His
achievements are characteristic of the rude and
barbarous age in which he lived : he strangled ser-
pents, and killed the Erymanthian boar, the Ne-
maean lion, and the Hydra.
DiEDALUS.
Ne^ly contemporary with the labours of Her-
cules is the history of Pasiphae and the Minotaur ;
and this brings us again within the sphere of magic.
Pasiphae was the wife of Minos, king of Crete, who
conceived an unnatural passion for a beautiful
white bull, which Neptune had presented to the
king. Having found the means of gratifying her
passion, she became the mother of a monster, half-
DiEDALUS. 65
man and half-bull, called the Minotaur. Minos
was desirous of hiding this monster from the ob-
servation of mankind, and for this purpose applied
to Daedalus, an Athenian, the most skilful artist of
his time, who is said to have invented the axe, the
wedge, and the plummet, and to have found out
the use of glue. He first contrived masts and
sails for ships, and carved statues so admirably,
that they not only looked as if they were alive, but
had actually the power of self-motion, and would
have escaped from the custody of their possessor,
if they had not been chained to the wall.
Daedalus contrived for Minos a labyrinth, a
wonderful structure, that covered many acres of
ground. The passages in this edifice met and
crossed each other with such intricacy, that a
stranger who had once entered the building, would
have been starved to death before he could find his
way out. In this labyrinth Minos shut up the Mino-
taur. Having conceived a deep resentment against
the people of Athens, where his only son had been
killed. in a riot, he imposed upon them an annual
tribute of seven noble youths, and as many virgins
to be devoured by the Minotaur. Theseus, son of
the king of Athens, put an end to this disgrace.
He was taught by Ariadne, the daughter of Minos,
how to destroy the monster, and furnished with a
clue by which afterwards to find his way out of
the labyrinth.
66 THE ARGONAUTS.
Daedalus for some reason having incurred the
displeasure of Minos, was made a prisoner by him
in his own labyrinth. But the artist being never
at an end of his inventions, contrived with feathers
and wax to make a pair of wings for himself, and
escaped. Icarus, his son, who was prisoner along
with him, was provided by his father with a si-
milar equipment. But the son, who was inexpe-
rienced and heedless, approached too near to the
sun in his flight ; and, the wax of his wings being
melted with the heat, he fell into the sea and was
drowned.
THE ARGONAUTS.
Contemporary with the reign of Minos oc-
curred the expedition of the Argonauts. Jason,
the son of the king of lolchos in Thessaly, was at
the head of this expedition. Its object was to
fetch the golden fleece, which was hung up in a
grove sacred to Mars, in the kingdom of Colchis,
at the eastern extremity of the Euxine sea. He
enlisted in this enterprise all the most gallant
spirits existing in the country, and among the rest
Hercules, Theseus, Orpheus and Amphion. After
having passed through a multitude of perils, one of
which was occasioned by the Cyanean rocks at the
entrance of the Euxine, that had the quality of
closing upon every vessel which attempted to
MEDEA. 67
make its way between them and crushing it to
pieces, a danger that could only be avoided by
sending a dove before as their harbinger, they at
length arrived.
MEDEA.
The golden fleece was defended by bulls, whose
hoofs were brass, and whose breath 'was fire, and
by a never-sleeping dragon that planted itself at
the foot of the tree upon which the fleece was sus-
pended. Jason was prepared for his undertaking
b)^ Medea, the daughter of the king of the coun-
try, herself an accomplished magician, and fur-
nished with philtres, drugs and enchantments.
Thus equipped, he tamed the bulls, put a yoke on
their necks, and caused them to plough two acres
of the stifiest land. He killed the dragon, and, to
complete the adventure, drew the monster's teeth,
sowed them in the ground, and saw an army of
soldiers spring fit'om the seed. The army hastened
forward to attack him ; but he threw a large stone
into the midst of their ranks, when they immedi-
ately turned from him, and, falling on each other,
were all killed with their mutual weapons.
The adventure being accomplished, Medea iSet
out with Jason on his return to Thessaly. On
their arrival, they found jEson, the father of Jason,
and Pelias, his uncle, who had usurped the throne,
both old and decrepid. Jason applied to Medea,
F 2
68 MEDEA.
and asked her whether among her charms she had
none to make an old man young again. She re-
plied she had: she drew the impoverished and
watery blood from the body of -^son ; she infused
the juice of certain potent herbs into his veins;
and he rose from the operation as fresh and vigor-
ous a man as his son.
The daughters of Pelias professed a perfect wil-
linpiess to abdicate the throne of lolchos ; but,
before they retired, they requested Medea to do
the same kindness for their father which she had
already done for-^son. She said she would. She
told them the method was to cut the old man in
pieces, and boil him iii a kettle with an infusion of
certain herbs, and he would come out as smooth
and active as a child.
The daughters of Pelias a little scrupled the
operation. Medea, seeing this, begged they would
not think she was deceiving them. If however
they doubted, she desired they would bring her
the oldest ram from their flocks, and they should
see the experiment. Medea cut up the ram, cast
in certain herbs, and the old bell-wether came out
as beautiful and innocent a he-lamb as was ever
beheld. The daughters of Pelias were satisfied.
They divided their father in pieces ; bufc he was
never restored either to health or life.
From lolchos, upon some insurrection of the
people, Medea and Jason fled to Corinth. Here
they lived ten years in much harmony. At the
MEDEA. 2 69
■.■\
end of that time Jason grew tired of his Vife, and
fell in love with Glauce, daughter of the^ king of
Corinth. Medea was greatly exasperatedWith his
infidelity, and, among other enormities, stew with
her own hand the two children she had bortie him
before his face. Jason hastened to punish her
barbarity ; but Medea mounted a chariot drawn
by fiery dragons, fled through the air to Athens,
and escaped.
At Athens she married Mgens^ king of that
city. iEgeus by a former wife had a son, named
Theseus, who for some reason had been brought
up obscure, unknown and in exile. At a suitable
time he returned home to his father with the in-
tention to avow his parentage. But Medea was
beforehand with him. She put a poisonied goblet
into the hands of Mgeus at an entertainment he
gave to Theseus, with the intent that he should
deliver it to his son. At the critical moment
jiEgeus cast his eyes on the sword of Theseus,
which he recognised as that which he had delivered
with his son, when a child, and had directed that it
should be brought by him, when a man, as a token
of the mystery of his birth. The goblet was
cast away ; the father and son rushed into each
other's arms ; and Medea fled from Athens in her
chariot drawn by dragons through the air, as she
had years before fled from Corinth,
70 ORPHEUS.
CIRCE.
Circe was the sister of ^etes and Pasiphae, and
was, like Medea, her niece, skilful in sorcery. She
had besides the gift of immortality. She was ex-
quisitely beautiful ; but she employed the charms
of her person, and the seducing grace of her man-
ners to a bad purpose. She presented to every
stranger who landed in her territory an enchanted
cup, of which she intreated him to drink. He
no sooner tasted it, than he was turned into a hog,
and was driven by the magician to her sty. The
unfortunate stranger retained under this loathsome
appearance the consciousness of what he had been,
and mourned for ever the criminal compliance
by which he was brought to so njelancholy a
pass.
ORPHEUS.
Cicero* quotes Aristotle as affirming that there
was no such man as Orpheus. But Aristotle is at
least single in that opinion. And there are too
many circumstances known respectipg Orpheus,
and which have obtained the consenii^ voice of
all antiquity, to allow us to call in question his
existence. He was a native of Thrace, and from
that country migrated into Greece. He travelled
into Egjrpt for the purpose of collecting there the
information necessary to the accomplishment of his
ends. He died a violent death ; and, as is almost
* De Natura Deonim, Lib. I, c. 38.
ORPHEUS. 71
universally affirmed, fell a sacrifice to the resent-
ment and fury of the women of his native soiP.
Orpheus wjis douhtless a poet ; though it is not
probable that any of his genuine productions have
been handed down to us. He was, as all the poets
of so remote a period were, extremely accomplished
in all the arts of vocal and instrumental music.
He civilised the rude inhabitants of Greece, and
subjected them to order and law. He formed
them into communities. He is said by Aristo-
phanes*" and Horace'* to have reclaimed the
savage, man, from slaughter, and an indulgence in
food that was loathsome and foul. And this has
with sufficient probability been interpreted to
mean, that he found the race of men among whom
he lived cannibals, and that, to cure them the
more completely of this horrible practice, he
taught them to be contented to subsist upon the
fruits of the earth^ Music and poetry are under-
stood to have been made specially instrumental by
him to the effecting this purpose. He is said to
have made the hungry lion and the famished tiger
obedient to his bidding, and to put off their wild
and furious natures.
This is interpreted by Horace^ and other recent
expositors to mean no more than that he reduced
** Plato, De Republica, Lib. X, subjinem,
« BaT^a^o?, V. 1032. ^ De Arte Poetica, v. 391.
« Memoires de TAcademie des Inscriptions, Tom. V, p. 117.
^ De Arte Poetica, v. 391, 2, 8.
72 » OKPHEUS;
the race of savages as he found them, to order and
civilisation. But it was at first perhaps under-
stood more literally. We shall not do justice to
the traditions of these remote times, if we do not
in imagination transport ourselves among them,
and teach ourselves to feel their feelings, and con-
ceive their conceptions. Orpheus lived in a time
when all was enchantment and prodigy. Gifted
and extraordinary persons in those ages believed
that they were endowed with marvellous preroga-
tives, and acted upon that belief. We may occa-
sionally observe, even in these days of the dull and
the literal, how great is the ascendancy of the man
over the beast, when he feels a full and entire
confidence in that ascendancy. The eye and the
gesture of man cannot fail to produce effects, in-
credible till they are seen. Magic was the order
of the day ; and the enthusiasm of its heroes was
raised to the highest pitch, and attended with no
secret misgivings. We are also to consider that,
in all operations of a magical nature, there is a
wonderful mixture of frankness and bonhommie
with a strong vein of cunning and craft. Man in
every age is full of incongruous and incompatible
principles ; and, when we shall cease to be incon-
sistent, we shall cease to be men.
It is difficult fully to explain what is meant by
the story of Orpheus and Eurydice; but in its
cu'cumstances it bears a striking resemblance to
what has been a thousand times recorded respect-
ORPHEUS. 73
ing the calling up of the ghosts of the dead by
means of sorcery. The disconsolate husband has
in the first place recourse to the resistless aid of
music'. After many preparatives he appears to
have effected his purpose, and prevailed upon the
powers of darkness to allow him the presence of
his beloved. She appears in the sequel however
to have been a thin and a fleeting shadow. He is
forbidden to cast his eyes on her ; and, if he had
obeyed this injunction, it is uncertain how the
experiment would have ended. He proceeds how-
ever, as he is commanded, towards the light of day.
He is led to believe that his consort is following
his steps. He is beset with a multitude of un-
earthly phenomena. He advances for some time
with confidence. At length he is assailed with
doubts. He has recourse to the auricular sense,
to know if she is following him. He can hear
nothing. Finally he can endure this uncertainty
no longer ; and, in defiance of the prohibition he
has received, cannot refrain from turning his head
to ascertain whether he is baffled, and has spent all
his labour in vain. He sees her ; but no sooner
he sees her, than she becomes evanescent and im-
palpable; farther and farther she retreats before
him ; she utters a shrill cry, and endeavours to
articulate; but she grows more and more imper-
ceptible ; and in the conclusion he is left with the
scene around him in all respects the same as it
s Virgil, Georgica, Lib, IV. v. 464, et seqq.
74 AMPHION.
had been before his incantations. The result of
the whole that is known of Orpheus, is, that he was
an eminently great and virtuous man, but was the
victim of singular calamity.
We have not yet done with the history of Or-
pheus. As has been said, he fell a sacrifice to the
resentment and fury of the women of his native
soil. They are affirmed to have torn him limb
from limb. His head, divided from his body,
floated down the waters of the Hebrus, and mira-
culously, as it passed along to the sea, it was still
heard to exclaim in mournful accents, Eurydice,
Eurydice^! At length it was carried ashore on
the island of Lesbos'. Here, by some extraordi-
nary concurrence of circumstances, it found a rest-
ing-place in a fissure of a rock over-arched by a
cave, and, thus domiciliated, is said to have retained
the power of speech, and to have uttered oracles.
Not only the people of Lesbos resorted to it for
guidance in difficult questions, but also the Asiatic
Greeks from Ionia and -^tolia ; and its fame and
character for predicting future events even ex-
tended to Babylon^.
AMPHION.
The story of Amphion is more perplexing than
that of the living Orpheus. Both of them turn in
•» Georgica, iv, 525. * Metamorphoses, xi, 55.
^ Philostratus, Heroica, cap. v.
TIRESIAS. 75
a great degree upon the miraculous effects of mu-
sic. Amphion was of the royal family of Thebes,
and ultimately became ruler of the territory. He
is said, by the potency of his lyre, or his skill in
the magic art, to have caused the stones to follow
him, to arrange themselves in the way he proposed,
and without the intervention of a human hand to
have raised a wall about his metropolis*. It is cer-
tainly less difficult to conceive the savage man to
be rendered placable, and to conform to the dic-
tates of civilisation, or even wild beasts to be made
tame, than to imagine stones to obey the voice and
the will of a human being. The example however
is not singular ; and hereafter we shall find related
that Merlin, the British enchanter, by the power
of magic caused the rocks of Stonehenge, though
of such vast dimensions, to be carried through the
air from Ireland to the place where we at present
find them.— Homer mentions that Amphion, and
his brother Zethus built the walls of Thebes, but
does not describe it as having been done by miracle^.
TIRESIAS.
Tiresias was one of the most celebrated sooth-
sayers of the early ages of Greece. He lived in
the times of Oedipus, and the war of the seven
chiefs against Thebes. He was afflicted by the
* Horat, de Arte Poetica, v. 394. Pausanias.
»> Odyssey, Lib. XI, v. 262.
76 ABABIS.
Gods with blindness, in consequence of some dis-
pleasure they conceived against him ; but in com-
pensation they endowed him beyond all other mor-
tals with the gift of prophecy. He is said to have
understood the language of birds. He possessed
the art of divining future events from the various
indications that manifest themselves in fire, in
smoke, and in other ways% but to have set the
highest value upon the communications of the
dead, whom by spells and incantations he con-
strained to appear and answer his enquiries^; and
he is represented as pouring out tremendous me-
naces against them, when they shewed themselves
tardy to attend upon his commands".
ABARIS.
Abaris, the Scythian, known to us for his visit
to Greece, was by all accounts a great magician.
Herodotus says% that he is reported to have travel-
led over the world with an arrow, eating nothing
during his journey. Other authors relate that this
arrow was given to him by Apollo, and that he
rode upon it through the air, over lands, and seas,
and all inaccessible places*". The time in which
he flourished is very uncertain, some having re-
presented him as having constructed the Palla-
» Statius, Thebais, Lib. X. v. 599. ^Ibid, Lib. IV, v. 599.
<^ Ibid, Lib. IV, v. 409. etseqq,
* Lib. IV, c. 36. ^ lamblichus.
PYTHAGORAS, 77
dium, which, as long as it was preserved, kept
Troy from being taken by an enemy% and others
affirming that he was familiar with Pythagoras, who
lived six hundred years later, and that he was ad-
mitted into his special confidence^ He is said to
haye possessed the faculty of foretelling earth-
quakes, allaying storms, and driving away pesti-
lence ; he gave out predictions wherever he went ;
and is described as an enchanter, professing to cure
diseases by virtue of certain words which he
pronounced over those who were afflicted with
them^
PYTHAGORAS.
The name of Pythagoras is one of the most me-
morable in the records of the human species ; and
his character is well worthy of the minutest inves-
tigation. By this name we are brought at once
within the limits of history properly so called.
He lived in the time of Cyrus and Darius Hys-
taspes, of Croesus, of Pisistratus, of Polycrates,
tyrant of Samos, and Amasis, king of Egypt.
Many hypotheses have been laid down respecting
the precise period of his birth and death ; but, as
it is not to our purpose to enter into any length-
ened discussions of that sort, we will adopt at
once the statement that appears to be the most
^ Julius Firmicus, apud Scaliger, in Eusebium.
** lamblichus, Vita Pythagorae^ * Plato, Charmides.
78 PYTHAGORAS.
probable, which is that of Lloyd*, who fixes his
birth about the year before Christ 586, and bis
death about the year 506.
Pythagoras was a man of the most various ac-
complishments, and appears to have penetrated
in different directions into the depths of human
knowledge. He sought wisdom in its retreats of
fairest promise, in Eg3^t and other distant coun-
tries'*. In this investigation he employed the
earlier period of his life, probably till he was forty,
and devoted the remainder to such modes of pro-
ceeding, as appeared to him the most likely to se-
cure the advantage of what he had acquired to a
late posterity^.
He founded a school, and delivered his acquisi-
tions by oral communication to a numerous body
of followers. He divided his pupils into two
classes, the one neophytes, to whom was explained
only the most obvious and general truths, the
other who were admitted into the entire confidence
of the master. These last he caused to throw
their property into a common stock, and to live
together in the same place of resort^ He appears
to have spent the latter half of his life in that part
of Italy, called Magna Graecia, so denominated in
some degree from the numerous colonies of Gre-
cians by whom it was planted, and partly perhaps
* Chronological Account of Pythagoras and his Contempo-
raries. ** Laertius, Lib. VIII, c. 3.
* Lloyd, ubi supra. '^ lamblichus, c. 17
PYTHAGORAS. 79
from the memory of the illustrious things which
Pythagoras achieved there^ He is said to have
spread the seeds of political liberty in Crotona,
Sybaris, Metapontum, and Rhegium, and from
thence in Sicily to Tauromenium, Catana, Agri-
gentum and Himera^ Charondas and Zaleucus,
themselves famous legislators, derived the rudi-
ments of their political wisdom from the instruc-
tions of Pythagoras^.
But this marvellous man in some way, whether
from the knowlege he received, or from his own
proper discoveries, has secured to his species bene-
6ts of a more permanent nature, and which shall
outlive the revolutions of ages, and the instability
of political institutions. He was a profound geo-
metrician. The two theorems, that the internal
angles of every right- line triangle are equal to
two right angles^, and that the square of the hypo-
thenuse of every right angled triangle is equal to
the sum of the squares of the other two sides', are
ascribed to him. In memory of the latter of these
discoveries he is said to have offered a public sacri-
fice to the Gods ; and the theorem is still known by
the name of the Pythagorean theorem. He ascer-
tained from the length of the Olympic course, which
was understood to have measured six hundred of
« lamblichus, c. 29. ^ Ibid, c. 7.
« Laertius, c. 15. ^ Ibid, c. 11.
» Plutarchus, Symposiaca, Lib. VIII, Quaestio 2.
80 PYTHAGORAS.
Hercules's feet, the precise stature of that hero^.
Lastly, Pythagoras is the first person, who is
known to have taught the spherical figure of the
earth, and that we have antipodes^; and he pro-
pagated the doctrine that the earth is a planet,
and that the sun is the centre round which the
earth and the other planets move, now known by
the name of the Copernican system".
To inculcate a pure and a simple mode of sub-
sistence was also an express object of pursuit to
Pythagoras. He taught a total abstinence from
every thing having had the property of animal
life. It has been affirmed, as we have seen", that
Orpheus before him taught the same thing. But
the claim of Orpheus to this distinction is ambi-
guous ; while the theories and dogmas of the Sa-
mian sage, as he has frequently been styled, were
more methodically digested, and produced more
lasting and unequivocal effects. He taught tem-
perance in all its branches, and a resolute subjec-
tion of the appetites of the body to contemplation
and the exercises of the mind ; and, by the unre-
mitted discipline and authority he exerted over
his followers, he caused his lessons to be con-
stantly observed. There was therefore an edify-
^ Aulas Gellius, Lib. I, c. 1, from Plutarch. '
• Laertius, c. 19.
"» Bailly, Histoire de rAstronomie, Lib. VIII, § 3,
n Plutarcbus, de Esu Camium. Ovidius, Metamorphoses,
Lib. XV. Laertius, c. 12,
PYTHAGORAS. 81
ing and an exemplary simplicity that prevailed as
far as the influence of Pythagoras extended, that
won golden opinions to his adherents at all times
that they appeared, and in all places^.
One revolution that Pythagoras worked, was
that, whereas, immediately before, those who were
most conspicuous among the Greeks as instructors
of mankind in understanding and virtue, styled
themselves sophists, professors of wisdom, this
illustrious man desired to be known only by the
appellation of a philosopher, a lover of wisdom^.
The sophists had previously brought their deno-
mination into discredit and reproach, by the arro-
gance of their pretensions, and the imperious way
in which they attempted to lay down the law to
the world.
The modesty of this appellation however did not
altogether suit with the deep designs of Pytha-
goras, the ascendancy he resolved to acquire, and
the oracular subjection in which he deemed it ne-
cessary to hold those who placed themselves under
his instruction. This wonderful man set out with
making himself a model of the passive and unscru-
pulous docility which he afterwards required from
others. He did not begin to teach till he was
forty years of age, and from eighteen to that pe-
riod he studied in foreign countries, with the reso-
lution to submit to all his teachers enjoined, and
to make himself master of their least communicated
« lamblichus, c. 16. p Laertius, c. 6.
82 PYTHAGORAS-
and most secret wisdom. In Egypt in particular,
we are told that, though he brought a letter of re-
commendation from Polycrates, his native sove-
reign, to Amasis, king of that country, who
fully concurred with tlie views of the writer,
the priests, jealous of admitting a foreigner into
their secrets, baffled him as long as they could,
referring him from one college to another, and
prescribing to him the most rigorous preparatives,
not excluding the rite of circumcision**. But
Pythagoras endured and underwent every thing,
till at length their unwillingness was conquered,
and his perseverance received its suitable reward.
When in the end Pythagoras thought himself
fully qualified for the task he had all along had in
view, he was no less strict in prescribing ample
preliminaries to his own scholars. At the time
that a pupil was proposed to him, the master, we
are told, examined him with multiplied questions
as to his principles, his habits and intentions, ob-
served minutely his voice and manner of speaking,
his walk and his gestures, the lines of his coun-
tenance, and the expression and management of
his eye, and, when he was satisfied with these,
then and not till then admitted him as a proba-
tioner'. It is to be supposed that all this must
have been personal. As soon however as this was
over, the master was withdrawn from the sight of
^ Clemens Alexandrinus, Stromata, Lib. I, p. 302.
^ lamblichus, c. 17.
PYTHAGORAS. 83
the pupil; and a noviciate of three and five, in all
eight years', was prescribed to the scholar, during
which time he was only to hear his instructor
from behind a curtain, and the strictest silence
was enjoined him through the whole period. As
the instructions Pythagoras received in Egypt and
the East admitted of no dispute, so in his turn he
required an unreserved submission from those who
heard him : c^vro? e(pfi, << the master has said it,'* was
deemed a sufficient solution to all doubt and un-
certainty^
To give the greater authority and effect to his
communications Pythagoras hid himself during
the day at least from the great body of his pupils,
and was only seen by them at night. Indeed
there is no reason to suppose that any one w^ ad-
mitted into his entire familiarity. When he came
fi>rth, he appeared in a long garment of the purest
white, with a flowing beard, and a garland upon
his head. He is said to have been of the finest
symmetrical form, with a majestic carriage, and a
grave and awful countenance". He suffered his
followers to believe that he was one of the Gods,
the Hyperborean Apollo"^, and is said to have told
Abaris that he assumed the human form, that he
might the better invite men to an easiness of ap-
proach and to confidence in him"". What how-
* Laertius, c. 8. lamblichus, c. 17.
* Cicero de Natura Deorum, Lib. I, c. 5.
" Laertius, c, 9. '^ Ibid. * lamblichus^ c. 19.
G 2
84 PYTHAGORAS.
ever seems to be agreed in by all his bio^aphers,
is that he professed to have already in different
ages appeared in the likeness of man: first as
jEthalides, the son of Mercury ; and, when his
father expressed himself ready to invest him with
any gift short of immortality, he prayed that, as
the human soul is destined successively to dwell
in various forms, he might have the pri\41ege in
each to remember his former state of being, which
was granted him. From jiEthalides he became
Euphorbus, who slew Patroclus at the siege of
Troy. He then appeared as Hermotimus, then
Pyrrhus, a fisherman of Delos, and finally Pytha-
goras. He said that a period of time was inter-
posed between each transmigration, during which
he visited the seat of departed souls ; and he
professed to relate a part of the wonders he had
seen^. He is said to have eaten sparingly and
in secret, and in all respects to have given him-
self out for a being not subject to the ordinary
laws of nature^
Pythagoras therefore pretended to miraculous
endowments. Happening to be on the sea-shore
when certain fishermen drew to land an enormous
multitude of fishes, he desired them to allow him
to dispose of the capture, which they consented to,
provided he would name the precise number they
had caught. He did so, and required that they
should throw their prize into the sea again, at the
y Laertius, c. 1. ^ Ibid, c. 18,
PYTHAGORAS. 85
same time paying them the value of the fish\
He tamed a Daunian bear by whispering in his
ear, and prevailed on him henceforth to refrain
from the flesh of animals, and to feed on vege-
tables. By the same meaiis he induced an ox not
to ieat beans, which was a diet specially prohibited
by Pythagoras ; and he called down an eagle
fi'bm his flight, causing him to sit on his hand,
and submit to he stroked down by the philo-
sopher^. In Greece, when he passed the river
Nessus in Macedon, the stream was heard to
salute him with the words " HaU, Pythagoras'^!'*
When Abaris addressed him as one of the hea-
venly host, he took the stranger aside, and con-
vinced him that he was under no mistake, by
exhibiting to him his thigh of gold: or, according
to another account, he used the same sort of
evidence at a certain time, to satisfy his pupils of
his celestial descent**. He is said to have been
seen on the same day at Metapontum in Italy,
and at Taurominium in Sicily,, though these
places are divided by the sea, so that it was con-
ceived that it would cost several days to pass
from one to the other ^ In one instance he ab-
sented himself from his associates in Italy for a
whole year ; and when he appeared again, related
that he had passed that time in the infernal re-
« lamblichus, c. 8. ^ Ibid, c. 13.
* Laertius, c. 9. lambHchus, c. 28.
** Laertius, c. 9. lamblichus, c. 18. ® Ibid, c. 28.
86 PYTHAGORAS.
gions, describing likewise the marvellous things
he had seen*. Diogenes Laertius, sj)eaking of
this circumstance affirms however that he re»
mained during this period in a cave, where his
mother conveyed to him intelligence and neces-
saries, and that, when he came once more into
light and air, he appeared so emaciated and co-
lourless, that he might well be believed to have
come out of Hades.
The close of the life of Pythagoras was, ac-
cording to every statement, in the midst of
misfortune and violence. Some particulars are
related by lamblichus^, which, though he is not an
authority beyond all exception, are so characteris-
tic as seem to entitle them to the being transcrib-
ed. This author is more circumstantial than any
other in stating the elaborate steps by which the
pupils of Pythagoras came to be finally admitted
into the full confidence of the master. He says,
that they passed three years in the first place in
a state of probation, carefully watched by their
seniors, and exposed to their occasional taunts
and ironies, by way of experiment to ascertain
whether they were of a temper sufficiently philoso-
phical and firm. At the expiration of that period
they were admitted to a noviciate, in which they
were bound to uninterrupted silence, and heard
the lectures of the master, while he was himself
^ Laertius, c. 21. s lamblichus, c, 17.
PYTHAGORAS. 87
concealed from their view by a curtain. They
were then received to initiation, and required to
deliver over their property to the common stock.
They were admitted to intercourse with the master.
They were invited to a participation of the most
obscure theories, and the abstrusest problems. If
however in this stage of their progress they were
discovered to be too weak of intellectual penetra-
tion, or any other fundamental objection were es-
tablished against them, they were expelled the
community ; the double of the property they had
contributed to the common stock was paid down
to them ; a head-stone and a monument inscribed
with their names were set up in the place of
meeting of the community ; they were considered
as dead ; and, if afterwards they met by chance
any of those who were of the privileged few, they
were treated by them as entirely strangers.
Cylon, the richest man, or, as he is in one place
styled, the prince, of Crotona, had manifested the
greatest partiality to Pythagoras. He was at the
same time a man of rude, impatient and bois-
terous character. He, together with Perialus of
Thurium, submitted to all the severities of the
Pythagorean school. They passed the three years
of probation, and the five years of silence. They
were received into the famiUarity of the master.
They were then initiated, and delivered all their
wealth into the common stock. They were how-
ever ultimately pronounced deficient in intellec-
88 PYTHAGORAS.
tual power, or for some other reason were not
judged worthy to continue among the confidential
pupils of Pythagoras. They were expelled. The
double of the property they had contributed was
paid back to them. A monument was set up in
memory of what they had been; and they were
pronounced dead to the school.
It will easily be conceived in what temper
Cylon sustained this degradation. Of Perialus
we hear nothing further. But Cylon, from feel-
ings of the deepest reverence and awe for Py-
thagoras, which he had cherished for years, was
filled even to bursting with inextinguishable hatred
and revenge. The unparalleled merits, the ve-
nerable age of the master whom he had so long
followed, had no power to control his violence.
His paramount influence in the city insured him
the command of a great body of followers. He
excited them to a frame of turbulence and riot.
He represented to them how intolerable was the
despotism of this pretended philosopher. They
surrounded the school in which the pupils were
accustomed to assemble, and set it on fire. Forty
persons perished in the flames \ According to
some accounts Pythagoras was absent at the time.
According, to others he and two of his pupils
escaped. He retired firom Crotona to Metapon-
tum. But the hostility which had broken out in
the former city, followed him there. He took
•, ^ lamblichus, c. 35. Laertius, c. 21.
PYTHAGORAS. 89
refuge in the Temple of the Muses. But he was
held so closely besieged that no provisions could
be conveyed to him ; and he finally perished with
hunger, after, according to Laertius, forty days'
abstinence^
It is difficult to imagine any thing more instruc-
tive, and more pregnant with matter for salutary
reflection, than the contrast presented to us by
the character and system of action of Pythagoras
on the one hand, and those of the great enquirers
of the last two centuries, for example. Bacon,
Newton and Locke, on the other. Pythagoras
probably does not yield to any one of these in the
evidences of true intellectual greatness. In his
school, in the followers he trained resembling him-
self, and in the salutary effects he produced on
the institutions of the various republics of Magna
Graecia and Sicily, he must be allowed greatly to
have excelled them. His discoveries of various
propositions in geometry, of the earth as a planet,
and of the solar system as now universally recog-
nised, clearly stamp him a genius of the highest
order.
Yet this man, thus enlightened and philanthro-
pical, established his system of proceeding upon
narrow and exclusive principles, and conducted it
by methods of artifice, quackery and delusion.
One of his leading maxims was, that the great and
fundamental truths to the establishment of which
^ Laertius, c. 21.
i
90 PYTHAGORAS.
he devoted himself, were studiously to be con-
cealed from the vulgar, and only to be imparted
to a select few, and after years of the severest no-
viciate and trial. He learned his earliest lessons
of wisdom in Egypt after this method, and he
conformed through life to the example which had
thus been delivered to him. The severe exami-
nation that he made of the candidates previously
to their being admitted into his school, and the
years of silence that were then prescribed to them,
testify this. He instructed them by symbols,
obscure and enigmatical propositions, which they
were first to exercise their ingenuity to expound.
The authority and dogmatical assertions of the
master were to remain unquestioned; and the
pupils were to fashion themselves to obsequious
and implicit submission, and were the furthest in
the world from being encouraged to the inde-
pendent exercise of their own understandings.
There was nothing that Pythagoras was more
fixed to discountenance, than the communication
of the truths upon which he placed the highest
value, to the uninitiated. It is not probable there-
fore that he wrote any thing : all was commimi-
cated orally, by such gradations, and with such
discretion, as he might think fit to adopt and to
exercise.
Delusion and falsehood were main features of
his instruction. With what respect therefore can
we consider, and what manliness worthy of his
PYTHAGORAS. 91
high character and endowments can we impute to,
his discourses delivered from behind a curtain,
his hiding himself during the day, and only ap-
pearing by night in a garb assumed for the pur-
pose of exciting awe and veneration ? What shall
we say to the story of his various transmigrations ?
At first sight it appears in the light of the most
audacious and unblushing imposition. And, if
we were to yield so far as to admit that by a high-
wrought enthusiasm, by a long train of maceration
and visionary reveries, he succeeded in imposing
on himself, this, though in a different way, would
scarcely less detract from the high stage of emi-
nence upon which the nobler parts of his charac-
ter would induce us to place him.
Such were some of the main causes that have
made his efforts perishable, and the lustre which
should have attended his genius in a great degree
transitory and fugitive. He was probably much
under the influence of a contemptible jealousy,
and must be considered as desirous that none of
his contemporaries or followers should eclipse
their master. All was oracular and dogmatic in
the school of Pythagoras. He prized and justly
prized the greatness of his attainments and dis-
coveries, and had no conception that any thing
could go beyond them. He did not encourage,
nay, he resolutely opposed, all true independence
of mind, and that undaunted spirit of enterprise
which is the atmosphere in which the sublimest
92 EPlMENmE&.
thoughts are most naturally generated* He there-
fore did not throw open the gates of science and
wisdom, and invite every comer ; but on the con-
trary narrowed the entrance, and carefully re-
duced the number of aspirants. He thought not
of the most likely methods to give strength and
permanence and an extensive sphiere to the pro-
gress of the human mind. For these reasons he
wrote nothing ; but consigned all to the frail and
uncertain custody of tradition. And distant pos-
terity has amply avenged itself upon the narrow-
ness of his policy ; and the name of Pythagoras,
which would otherwise have been ranked with
the first luminaries of mankind, and consigned to
everlasting gratitude, has in consequence of a few
radical and fatal mistakes, been often loaded with
obloquy, and the hero who bore it been indiscri-
minately classed among the votaries of imposture
and artifice.
EPTMENIDES.
Epimenides has been mentioned among the
disciples of Pythagoras ; but he probably lived at
an earlier period. He was a native of Crete.
The first extraordinary circumstance that is re-
corded of him is, that, being very young, he was
sent by his father in search of a stray sheep, when,
being overcome by the heat of the weather, he re-
tired into a cave, and slept fifty-seven years.
EPIMENIDES, 93
Supposing that he had slept only a few hours, he
repaired first to his father's country-house, which
he found in possession of a new tenant, and then
to the city, where he encountered his younger
brother, now grown an old man, who with diffi-
culty was brought to acknowledge him*. It was
probably this circumstance that originally brought
Epimenides into repute as a prophet, and a favou-
rite of the Gods.
Epimenides appears to have been one of those
persons, who make it their whole study to delude
their fellow-men, and to obtain for themselves the
reputation of possessing supernatural gifls. Such
persons, almost universally, and particularly in
ages of ignorance and wonder, become themselves
the dupes of their own pretensions. He gave out
that he was secretly subsisted by food brought to
him by the nymphs ; and he is said to have taken
nourishment in so small quantities, as to be ex-
empted from the ordinary necessities of nature**.
He boasted that he could send his soul out of his
body, and recal it, when he pleased; and alter-
nately appeared an inanimate corpse, and then
again his life would return to him, and he appear
capable of every human function as before^ He
is said to have practised the ceremony of exorcising
houses and fields, and thus rendering them fruitful
and blessed". He frequently uttered prophecies
» Laertius, Lib. I, c. 100. Plinius, Lib. VII, c. 52.
t» Laertius, c. 113. ^ Ibid. ^ lijid. c. 111.
94 EMPIMENIDES.
of events witji such forms of ceremony and such
sagacious judgment, that they seemed to com^ to
pass as he predicted.
One of the most memorable acts of his life hap-
pened in this manner. Cylon, the head of one of
the principal families in Athens, set on foot a re-
bellion against the government, and surprised the
citadel. His power however was of short duration.
Siege was laid to the place, and Cylon found his
safety in flight. His partisans forsook their arms,
and took refuge at the ^dtars. Seduced from this
security by fallacious promises, they were brought
to judgment and all of them put to death. The
Gods were said to be offended with this violation
of the sanctions of religion, and sent a plague upon
the city. All things were in confusion, and sad-
ness possessed the whole community. Prodigies
were perpetually seen ; the spectres of the dead
walked the streets ; and terror universally pre-
vailed. The sacrifices offered to the gods exhi-
bited the most unfavourable symptoms*. In this
emergency the Athenian senate resolved to send
for Epimenides to come to their relief. His repu-
tation was great. He was held for a holy and
devout man, and wise in celestial things by inspi-
ration from above. A vessel was fitted out under
the command of one of the first citizens of the
state to fetch Epimenides from Crete. He per-,
formed various rites and purifications. He took a
® Plutarch, Vita Solonis. Laertius, Lib. I, c. 109.
EMPEDOCLES. 95
certain number of sheep, bJack and white, and led
them to the Areopagus, where he caused them to
be let loose to go wherever they would. He di-
rected certain persons to follow them, and mark
the place where they lay down. He enquired to
what particular deity the spot was consecrated,
and sacrificed the sheep to that deity ; and in the
result of these ceremonies the plague was stayed.
According to others he put an end to the plague
by the sacrifice of two human victims. The
Athenian senate, full of gratitude to their bene-
factor, tendered him the gift of a talent. But
Epimenides refused all compensation, and only
required, as an acknowledgment of what he had
done, that there should be perpetual peace between
the Athenians and the people of Gnossus, his
native city^ He is said to have died shortly
after his return to his country, being of the age
of one hundred and fifty-seven years*.
EMPEDOCLES.
Empedocles has also been mentioned as a disci-
ple of Pythagoras. But he probably lived too late
for that to have been the case. His principles
were in a great degree similar to those of that il-
lustrious personage ; and he might have studied
under one of the immediate successors of Pythago-
ras. He was a citizen of Agrigentum in Sicily ;
^ Plutarch, Vita Solonis, Laertius, Lib. I. c. 110, 6 Ibid.
96 EMPEDOCLES.
and, having inherited considerable wealth, exer-
cised great authority in his native place*. He was
a distinguished orator and poet. He was greatly
conversant in the study of nature, and was emi-
nent for his skill in medicine\ In addition to
these accomplishments, he appears to have been a
devoted adherent to the principles of liberty. He
effected the dissolution of the ruling council of
Agrigentum, and substituted in their room a tri-
ennial magistracy, by means of which the public
authority became not solely in the hands of the
rich as before, but was shared by them with ex-
pert and intelligent men of an inferior class*". He
opposed all arbitrary exercises of rule. He gave
dowries from his own stores to many young maidens
of impoverished families, and settled them in eli-
gible marriages**. He performed many cures upon
his fellow-citizens ; and is especially celebrated for
having restored a woman to Hfe, who had been
apparently dead, according to one account for seven
days, but according to others for thirty^
But the most memorable things known of Em-
pedocles, are contained in the fragments of his
verses that have been preserved to us. In one of
them he says of himself, " I well remember the
time before I was Empedocles, that I once was
a boy, then a girl, a plant, a glittering fish, a bird
» Laertius, Lib. VIII, c. 51, 64. »> Ibid, c. 57.
^ Ibid, c. 66. «* Ibid, c. 73.
• Plinius, Lib. VII, c. 52. Laertius, c. 61.
EMPEDOCLES. 97
that cut the air'." Addi'essing those who resorted
to him for improvement and wisdom, he says,
"By my instructions you shall learn medicines
that are powerful to cure disease, and re-animate
old age ; you shall be able to calm the savage
winds which lay waste the labours of the husband-
man, and, when you will, shall send forth the
tempest again ; you shall cause the skies to be fair
and serene, or once more shall draw down refresh-
ing showers, re-animating the fruits of the earth ;
nay, you shall recal the strength of the dead man,
when he has already become the victim of Pluto'^,"
Further, speaking of iiimself, Empedocles exclaims:
** Friends, who inhabit the great city laved by the
yellow Acragas, all hail ! I mix with you a God,
no longer a mortal, and am every where honoured
by you, as is just ; crowned with fillets, and fra-
grant garlands, adorned with which when I visit
populous cities, I am revered by both men ind
women, who follow me by ten thousands, enquir-
ing the road to boundless wealth, seeking the gift
of prophecy, and who would learn the marvellous
skill to cure all kinds of diseases^."
The best known account of the death of Empe-
docles may reasonably be considered as fabulous.
From what has been said it suflSciently appears,
that he was a man of extraordinary intellectual en-
dowments, and the most philanthropical disposi-
tions ; at the same time that he was immoderately
f Laertius, c. 11. « Ibid, c. 59. *» Ibid, c. 62.
H
98 ARISTEAS.
vain, aspiring by every means in his power to ac-
quire to himself a deathless remembrance. Working
on these hints, a story has been invented that he
aspired to a miraculous way of disappearing from
among men ; and for this purpose repaired, when
alone, to the top of Mount jEtna, then in a state
of eruption, and threw himself down the burning
crater : but it is added, that in the result of this
perverse ambition he was baffled, the volcano hav-
ing thrown up one of his brazen sandals, by means
of which the mode of his death became known*.
ARISTEAS.
Herodotus tells a marvellous story of one Aris-
teas, a poet of Proconnesus, an island of the Pro-
pontis. This man, coming by chance into a
fuller's workshop in his native place, suddenly
fell down dead. As the man was of considerable
rank, the fuller immediately, quitting and locking
up his shop, proceeded to inform his family of
what had happened. The relations went accord-
ingly, having procured what was requisite to give
the deceased the rites of sepulture, to the shop ;
but, when it was opened, they could discover no
vestige of Aristeas, either dead or alive. A tra-
veller however from the neighbouring town of
Cyzicus on the continent, protested that he had
just left that place, and, as he set foot in the wherry
» Laertius, c. 69. Horat. De Arte Poetica, v. 463.
HERMOTIMUS. 99
which had brought him over, had met Aristeas,
and held a particular conversation with him. Seven
years after, Aristeas reappeared at Proconnesus,
resided there a considerable time, and during this
abode wrote his poem of the wars of the one-eyed
Arimaspians and the Gryphons. He then again
disappeared in an unaccountable manner. But,
what is more than all extraordinary, three hundred
and forty years after this disappearance, he shewed
himself again at Metapontum, in Magna Graecia,
and commanded the citizens to erect a statue in
his honour near the temple of Apollo in the forum ;
which being done, he raised himself in the air ;
and flew away in the form of a crow*.
HERMOTIMUS.
Hermotimus, or, as Plutarch names him, Her-
modorus of Clazomene, is said to have possessed,
like Epimenides, the marvellous power of quitting
his body, and returning to it again, as often, and
for as long a time as he pleased. In these absences
his unembodied spirit would visit what places he
thought proper, observe every thing that was go-
ing on, and, when he returned to his fleshy taber-
nacle, make a minute relation of what he had seen.
Hermotimus had enemies, who, one time when
his body had lain unanimated unusually long, be-
guiled his wife, made her believe that he was cer-
* Herodotus, Lib. Ill, c. 14, 15. Plinius, Lib. VII, c. 52.
H 2
100 THE MOTHER OF DEMARATUS.
tainly dead, and that it was disrespectful and in-
decent to keep him so long in that state. The
woman therefore placed her husband on the funeral
pyre, and consumed him to ashes ; so that, con-
tinues the philosopher, when the soul of Hermo-
timus came back again, it no longer found its
customary receptacle to retire into'*. Certainly
this kind of treatment appeared to furnish an in-
fallible criterion, whether the seeming absences of
the soul of this miraculous man were pretended or
real.
THE MOTHER OF DEMARATUS, KING OF
SPARTA.
Herodotus^ tells a story of the mother of De-
maratus, king of Sparta, which bears a striking
resemblance to the fairy tales of modem times.
This lady, afterward queen of Sparta, was sprung
from opulent parents, but, when she was bom,
was so extravagantly ugly, that her parents hid
her from all human observation. According to the
mode of the times however, they sent the babe
daily in its nurse's arms to the shrine of Helen,
now metamorphosed into a Goddess, to pray that
the child might be delivered from its present
preternatural deformity. On these occasions the
» Plutarch, De Genio Socratis. Lucian, Muscae Encomium.
Plinius, Lib. VII, c. 52.
»> Plinius, Lib. Ill, c. 61, 62.
ORACLES. 101
child was shrouded in many coverings, that it
might escape being seen. One day as the nurse
came out of the temple, a strange woman met her,
and asked her what she carried so carefully con-
cealed. The nurse said it was a female child, but
of opulent parents, and she was strictly enjoined
that it should be seen by no one. The stranger
was importunate, and by dint of perseverance
overcame the nurse's reluctance. The woman
took the babe in her arms, stroked down its hair,
kissed it, and then returning it to the nurse, said
that it should grow up the most perfect beauty in
Sparta. So accordingly it proved : and the king
of the country, having seen her, became so en-
amoured of her, that, though he already had a
wife, and she a husband, he overcame all obstacles,
and made her his queen.
ORACLES.
One of the most extraordinary things to be met
with in the history of ancient times is the oracles.
They maintained their reputation for many suc-
cessive centuries. The most famous perhaps were
that of Delphi in Greece, and that of Jupiter Am-
mon in the deserts of Lybia. But they were scat-
tered through many cities, many plains, and many
islands. They were consulted by the foolish and
the wise ; and scarcely anything considerable was
undertaken, especially about the time of the Per-
102 ORACLES,
sian invasion into Greece, without the parties hav-
ing first had recourse to these ; and they in most
eases modified the conduct of princes and armies
accordingly. To render the delusion more success-
ful, every kind of artifice was put in practice. The
oracle could only be consulted on fixed days ; and
the persons who resorted to it, prefaced their ap-
plication with costly oflPerings to the presiding
God. Their questions passed through the hands
of certain priests, residing in and about the tem-
ple. These priests received the embassy with
all due solemnity, and retired. A priestess, or
Pythia, who was seldom or never seen by any of
the profane vulgar, was the. immediate vehicle of
communication with the God. She was cut off
from all intercourse with the world, and was care-
fully trained by the attendant priests. Spending al-
most the whole of her time in solitude, and taught
to consider her office as ineffably sacred, she saw
visions, and was for the most part in a state of
great excitement. The Pythia, at least of the
Delphian God, was led on with much ceremony
to the performance of her oflSce, and placed upon
the sacred tripod. The tripod, we are told, stood
over a chasm in the rock, from which issued fumes
of an inebriating quality. The Pythia became gra-
dually penetrated through every limb with these
fumes, till her bosom swelled, her features enlarg-
ed, her mouth foamed, her voice seemed super-
natural, and she uttered words that could some-
ORACL£S. 103
times scarcely be called articulate. She could with
difficulty contain herself, and seemed to be pos^
sessed, and wholly overpowered, with the God.
After a prelude of many unintelligible sounds^
uttered with fervour and a sort of frenzy, she be-
came by degrees more distinct. She uttered in-
coherent sentences, with breaks and pauses, that
were filled up with preternatural effi>rts and dis-
torted gestures ; while the priests stood by, care-
fiilly recording her words, and then reducing them
into a sort of obscure signification. They finally
digested them for the most part into a species of
hexameter verse. We may 3uppose the supplicants
during this ceremony, placed at a proper distance,
so as to observe these things imperfectly, while
the less they understood, they were ordinarily the
more impressed with religious awe, and prepared
implicitly to receive what was communicated to
them. Sometimes the priestess found herself in
a frame, not entirely equal to her function, and
refused for the present to proceed with the cere-
mony.
The priests of the oracle doubtless conducted
them in a certain degree like the gipsies and for-
tune-tellers of modem times, cunningly procuring
to themselves intelligence in whatever way they
could, and ingeniously worming out the secrets of
their suitors, at the same time contriving that their
drift should least of all be suspected. But their
104 ORACLES.
main resource probably was in the obscurity, al-
most amounting to unintelligibleness, of their re-
sponses. Their prophecies in most cases required
the comment of the event to make them under-
stood 'y and it not seldom happened, that the mean-
ing in the sequel was found to be the diametrically
opposite of that which the pious votaries had ori-
ginally conceived.
In the mean time the obscurity of the oracles
was of inexpressible service to the cause of su-
perstition. If the event turned out to be such
as could in no way be twisted to come within the
scope of the response, the pious suitor only con-
cluded that the failure was owing to the grossness
and carnality of his own apprehension, and not to
any deficiency in the institution. Thus the oracle
by no means lost credit, even when its meaning
remained for ever in its original obscurity. But,
when, by any fortunate chance, its predictions
seemed to be verified, then the unerringness of
the oracle was lauded from nation to nation ; and
the omniscience of the God was admitted with as-
tonishment and adoration.
It would be a vulgar and absurd mistake how-
ever, to suppose that all this was merely the affair
of craft, the multitude only being the dupes, while
the priests in cold blood carried on the deception,
and secretly laughed at the juggle they were
palming on the world. They felt their own im-
ORACLES. 105
portance ; and they cherished it. They felt that
they were regarded by their countrymen as
something more than human ; and the opinion
entertained of them by the world around them,
did not fail to excite a responsive sentiment in
their own bosoms. If their contemporaries wil-
lingly ascribed to them an exclusive sacredness,
by how much stronger an impulse were they led
fully to receive so flattering a suggestion I Their
minds were in a perpetual state of exaltation ; and
they believed themselves specially favoured by the
God whose temple constituted their residence. A
small matter is found suflScient to place a creed
which flatters all the passions of its votaries, on
the most indubitable basis. Modern philosophers
think that by their doctrine of gases they can ex-
plain all the appearances of the Pythia ; but the
ancients, to whom this doctrine was unknown, ad-
mitted these appearances as the undoubted evi-
dence of an interposition from heaven.
It is certainly a matter of the extremest diffi-
culty, for us in imagination to place ourselves in
the situation of those who believed in the ancient
polytheistical creed. And yet these believer^
nearly constituted the whole of the population of
the kingdoms of antiquity. Even those who pro-
fessed to have shaken ofi^ the prejudices of their
education, and to rise above the absurdities of
paganism, had still some of the old leaven adhering
to them. One of the last acts of the life of So-
106 ORACLES*
crates, was to order the sacrifice of a cock to be
made to iEsculapius.
Now the creed of paganism is said to have made
up to the number of thirty thousand deities.
Every kingdom, every city, every street, nay, in
a manner every house, had its protecting God.
These Gods were rivals to eacli other ; and were
each jealous of his own particular province, and
w^chful against the intrusion of any neighbour
deity upon ground where he had a superior right.
The province of each of these deities was of small
extent ; and therefore their watchfulness and jea-
lousy of their appropriate honours do not enter
into the sHghtest comparison with the Providence
of the God who directs the concerns of the uni-
verse. They had ample leisure to employ in vin*-
dicating their prerogatives. Prophecy was of all
means the plainest and most obvious for each deity
to assert his existence, and to inforce the reve-
rence and submission of his votaries. Prophecy
was that species of interference which was least
liable to the being confuted and exposed. The
oracles, as we have said, were delivered in terms
and phrases that were nearly uninteUigible. If
therefore they met with no intelligible fulfilment,
this lost them nothing ; and, if it gained them no
additional credit, neither did it expose them to
any disgrace. Whereas every example, where the
obscure prediction seemed to tally with, and be
illustrated by any subsequent event, was hiuled
INVASION OF XERXES INTO GREECE. 107
With wonder aild applause, confirmed the faith of
the tifue believers, and was held forth as a victo-
rious confutation of the doubts of the infidel.
INVASION OF XERXES INTO GREECE.
It is particularly suitable in this place to no-
tice the events which took place at Delphi upon
occasion of the memorable invasion of Xerxes
into Greece. This was indeed a critical moment
for the heathen mythology. The Persians were
pointed and express in their hostility against the
altars and the temples of the Greeks. It was no
tooner known that the straits of Thermopylae had
been forced, than the priests consulted the God, as
to whether they should bury the treasures of the
temple, so to secure them against the sacrilege of
the invader. The answer of the oracle was : " Let
nothing be moved ; the God is sufficient for the
protection erf* his rights/' The inhabitants there-
fore of the neighbourhood withdrew : only sixty
men and the priest remained. The Persijms in
the mean time approached. Previously to this
however, the sacred arms which were placed in
the temple, were seen to be moved by invisible
hands, and deposited on the declivity which was
on the outside of the building. The invaders no
sooner shewed themselvesj than a miraculous
storm of thunder and lightning rebounded and
flashed among the multiplied hills which sur-
108 INVASION OF XERXES INTO GREECE.
rounded the sacred area, and struck terror into all
hearts. Two vast fragments were detached from
the top of mount Parnassus, and crushed hun-
dreds in their fall. A voice of warlike acclama-
tion issued from within the walls. Dismay seized
the Persian troops. The Delphians then, rushing
from their caverns, and descending from the sum-
mits, attacked them with great slaughter. Two
persons, exceeding all human stature, and that
were said to be the demigods whose fanes were
erected near the temple of Apollo, joined in the
pursuit, and extended the slaughter . It has been
said that the situation of the place was particularly
adapted to this mode of defence. Surrounded
and almost overhung with lofty mountain-sum-
mits, the area of the city was inclosed within
crags and precipices. No way led to it but
through defiles, narrow and steep, shadowed
with wood, and commanded at every step by
fastnesses from above. In such a position arti-
ficial fires and explosion might imitate a thunder
storm. Great pains had been taken, to repre-
sent the place as altogether abandoned ; and there-
fore the detachment of rocks from the top of
mount Parnassus, though efiected by human
hands, might appear altogether supernatural.
Nothing can more forcibly illustrate the strength
of the religious feeling among the Greeks, than
the language of the Athenian government at the
« Herodotus, Lib. VIII, c. 36, 37, 38, 39.
INVASION OF XERXES INTO GREECE. 109
time of the second descent of the Persian arma-
ment upon their territory, when they were again
compelled to abandon their houses and land to
the invader. Mardonius said to them : " I am
thus commissioned by the king of Persia, he will
release and give back to you your country ; he
invites you to choose a further territory, whatever
you may think desirable, which he will guarantee
to you to govern as you shall judge fit. He will
rebuild for you, without its costing you either
money or labour, the temples which in his former
incursion he destroyed with fire. It is in vain for
you to oppose him by force, for his armies are
innumerable." To which the Athenians replied,
" As long as the sun pursues his course in the
heavens, so long will we resist the Persian inva-
der.'' Then turning to the Spartan ambassadors
who were sent to encourage and animate them to
persist, they added, " It is but natural that your
employers should apprehend that we might give
way and be discouraged. But there is no sum of
money so vast, and no region so inviting and fer-
tile, that could buy us to concur in the enslaving
of Greece. Many and resistless are the causes
which induce us to this resolve. First and chief-
est, the temples and images of the Gods, which
Xerxes has burned and laid in ruins, and which
we are called upon to avenge to the utmost,
instead of forming a league with him who made
this devastation. Secondly, the consideration of
110 DEMOCRITUS.
the Grecian race, the same with us in blood and
in speech, the same in religion and manners, and
whose cause we wiU never betray. Know there-
fore now, if you knew not before, that, as long as
a single Athenian survives, we will never swerve
from the hostility to Persia to which we have de-
voted ourselves/'
Contemplating this magnanimous resolution, it
is in vain for us to reflect on the absurdity, incon-
gruity and frivolousness, as we apprehend it, of
the pagan worship, inasmuch as we find, whatever
we may think of its demerits, that the most heroic
people that ever existed on earth, in the hour of
their direst calamity, regarded a zealous and fer-
vent adherence to that religion as the most sacred
of all duties^.
DEMOCRITUS.
The fame of Democritus has sustained a singu-
lar fortune. He is represented by Pliny as one of
the most superstitious of mortals. This character
is founded on certain books which appeared in his
name. In these books he is made to say, that, if
the blood of certain birds be mingled together, the
combination will produce a serpent, of which who-
ever eats wiU become endowed with the gift of
understanding the language of birds*. He attri-
butes a multitude of virtues to the limbs of a dead
»> Herodotus, Lib. VIII, c. 140, et seqq.
* Historia Naturalis, Lib. X, c. 49.
DEMOCRITUS. Ill
camelion : among others that, if the left foot of
this animal be grilled, and there be added certain
herbs, and a particular unctuous preparation, it will
have the quality to render the person who carries
it about him invisible\ But all this is wholly
irreconcileable with the known character of Demo-
critus, who distinguished himself by the hypothesis
that the world was framed from the fortuitous con-
course of atoms, and that the soul died with the
body. And accordingly Lucian% a more judicious
author than Pliny, expressly cites Democritus as
the strenuous opposer of all the pretenders to
miracles. " Such juggling tricks,'* he says, " call
for a Democritus, an Epicurus, a Metrodorus, or
some one of that temper, who should endeavour
to detect the illusion, and would hold it for cer^
tain, even if he could not fiiUy lay open the deceit,
that the whole was a lying pretence, and had not
a spark of reality in if
Democritus was in reality one of the most dis-
interested characters on record in the pursuit of
truth. He has been styled the &iher of experi-
mental philosophy. When his father died, and
the estate came to be divided between him and
two brothers, he chose the part which was in
money, though the smallest, that he might indulge
him in travelUng in pursuit of knowledge. He
visited Egypt and Persia, and turned aside into
»> Plinras, Lib. XXVIII, c. 8.
^ Pseudomantis, c. 17* See also Philopseudes, c. 32.
112 SOCRATES.
Ethiopia and India. He is reported to have said,
that he had rather be the possessor of one of the
cardinal secrets of nature, than of the diadem of
Persia.
SOCRATES.
Socrates is the most eminent of the ancient
philosophers. He lived in the most enlightened
age of Greece, and in Athens, the most illustrious
of her cities. He was bom in the middle ranks of
life, the son of a sculptor. He was of a mean
countenance, with a snub nose, projecting eyes,
and otherwise of an appearance so unpromising,
that a physiognomist, his contemporary, pro-
nounced him to be given to the grossest vices.
But he was of a penetrating understanding, the
simplest manners, and a mind wholly bent on the
study of moral excellence. He at once abjured
all the lofty pretensions, and the dark and recon-
dite pursuits of the most applauded teachers of his
time, and led those to whom he addressed his in-
structions from obvious and irresistible data to the
most unexpected and useful conclusions. There
was something in his manner of teaching that
drew to him the noblest youth of Athens. Plato
and Xenophon, two of the most admirable of the
Greek writers, were among his pupils. He recon-
ciled in his own person in a surprising degree
poverty with the loftiest principles of indepen-
dence. He taught an unreserved submission to
SOCRATES. 118
the laws of our country. He several times unequi-
vocally displayed his valour in the field of batjtle,
while at the same time he kept aloof from public
offices and trusts. The serenity of his mind never
forsook him* He was at all times ready to teach,
and never found it difficult to detach himself from
his own concerns, to attend to the wants and
wishes of others. He was uniformly courteous
and unpretending ; and, if at any time he indulged
in a vein of playful ridicule, it was only against
the presumptuously ignorant, and those who were
without foundation wise in their own conceit.
Yet, with all these advantages and perfections,
the name of Socrates would not have been handed
down with such lustre to posterity but for the
manner of his death. He made himself many
enemies. The plainness of his manner and the
simplicity of his instructions were inexpressibly
wounding to those (and they were many), who,
setting up for professors, had hitherto endeavoured
to dazzle their hearers by the loftiness of their
claims, and to command from them implicit sub-
mission by the arrogance with which they dic-
tated. It must be surprising to us, that a man
like Socrates should be arraigned in a country
like Athens upon a capital accusation. He was
charged with instilling into the youth a disobe-
dience to their duties, and propagating impiety to
the Gods, faults of which he was notoriously inno-
cent. But the plot against him was deeply laid,
114 SOCRATES.
and is said to have been twenty years in the con*
coction. And he greatly assisted the machina-
tions of his adversaries, by the wonderfiil firmness
of his conduct upon his trial, and his spirited reso-
lution iK)t to submit to any thing indirect and
pusillanimous. He defended himself witli a serene
countenance and the most cogent arguments, but
would not stoop to deprecation and intreaty.
When JKUtence was pronounced against him, this
did not induce the least alteration of his conduct.
He did not think that a life which he had passed
for seventy years with a clear conscience, was
worth preserving by the sacrifice of honour. He
refused to escape firom prison, when one of his
rich friends had already purchased of the jailor the
means of his freedom. And, during the last days
of his life, and when he was waiting the signal of
death, which was to be the return of a ship that
had been sent with sacrifices to Delos, he uttered
those admirable discourses, which have been rei-
corded by Xenophon and Plato to the latest
posterity.
But the question which introduces his name
into this volume, is that of what is called the
demon of Socrates. He said that he repeatedly
received a divine premonition of dangers impend-
ing over himself and others ; and considerable
pains have been taken to ascertain the cause and
author of these premonitions. Several persons,
among whom we may include .Hato, have con^
SOCRATES. 115
ceived that Socrates regarded himself as attended
by a supernatuml guardian who at all times
watched over his, welfare and concerns.
But the solution is probably of a simpler nature.
Socrates, with all his incomparable excellencies
and perfections, was not exempt from the super-;
stitions of his age and country. He had been bred
^p among the absurdities of polytheism. In them
were included, as we have seen, a profound defer-
ence for the responses of oracles, and a vigilant
attrition to portents and omens. Socrates apr
pears to have been exceedingly regardful of omens.
Plato telb us that this intimation, which he spoke
of as his demon, never prompted him to any act,
but occasionally interfered to prevent him or his
friends from proceeding in any thing that would
have been att^ided with injurious consequences\
Sometimes he described it as a voice, which no
one however heard but himsdbf ; and som^etimes it
shewed itself in the act of sneezing. If the sneez-
ing came, when he was in doubt to do a thing or
not to do it, it confirmed him ; but if, being already
engaged in any act, he sneezed, this he considered
^ a warning to desist. If any of his friends
sneezed on his right hand, he interpreted this as
a favourable omen ; but, if on his 1^ he imme-
diately relinquished his purpose^. Socrates vindi-
cated his mode of expressing himself on the sub-
■ Theses.
^ Plutarch, De Genio Socratis.
i2
116 SOCRATES.
ject, by saying^ that others, when they spoke of
omens, for example, by the voice of a birdj
said the bird told me this, but that he, knowing
that the omen was purely instrumental to a higher
power, deemed it more religious and respectful to
have regard only to the higher power, and to say
that God had graciously warned him% One of
the examples of this presage was, that, going along
a narrow street with several companions in earnest
discourse, he suddenly stopped, and turned another
way, warning his friends to do the same. Some
yielded to him, and others went on, who were en^
countered by the rushing forward of a multitude
of hogs, and did not escape without considerable
inconvenience and injury**. In another instance
one of a company among whom was Socrates, had
confederated to commit an act of assassination.
Accordingly he rose to quit the place, saying to
Socrates, " I will be back presently.** Socrates,
imaware of his purpose, but having received the
intimation of his demon, said to him earnestly,
" Go not.** The conspirator sat down. Again
however he rose, and again Socrates stopped him.
At length he escaped, without the observation of
the philosopher, and committed the act, for which
he was afterwards brought to trial. When led
to execution, he exclaimed, " This would never
have happened to me, if I had yielded to the inti-
^ Xenophon, Memorabilia, Lib. I, c. 1.
^ Plutarch, ubi sttpra.
SOCRATES. 117
mation of Soc^ates^** In the same manner, and
by a similar suggestion, the philosopher predicted
the miscarriage of the Athenian expedition to
Sicily under Nicias, which terminated with such
signal disaster^ This feature in the character of
Socrates is remarkable, and may shew the preva-
lence of superstitious observances, even in persons
whom we might think the most likely to be ex-
empt from this weakness.
« Plato, Theages. ^ Ibid.
119
ROME.
VIRGIL.
From the Greeks let us turn to the Romans
The earliest examples to our purpose occur in the
JEneid. And, though Virgil is a poet, yet is he
so correct a writer, that we may well take for
granted, that he either records facts which had
been handed down by tradition, or that, when he
feigns, he feigns things strikingly in accord with
the manners and belief of the age of which he
speaks.
POLYDORUS.
One of the first passages that occur, in of the
ghost of the deceased Polydbrus on the coast of
Thrace. Polydorus, the son of Priam, was mur-
dered by the king of that country, his host, for
the sake of the treasures he had brought with him
from Troy* He was struck through with darts
made of the wood of the myrtle. The body was
cast into a pit, and earth thrown upon it. The
stems of myrtle grew and flourished. iEneaa^
after the burning of Tfoy, first attempted a settle^
ment in this plaoe. Near the spot where he
landed he found a hillock thickly set with
myrtle. He attempted to gather some, thinking
120 DIDO.
it might form a suitable screen to an altar which
he had just raised. To his astonishment and hor-
ror he found the branches he had plucked, drop-
ping with blood. He tried the experiment again
and again. At length a voice from the mound was
heard, exclaiming, " Spare me 1 1 am Polydorus ;"
and warning him to fly the blood-stained and
treacherous shore.
DIDO.
We have a more detailed tale of necromancy,
when Dido, deserted by JEneas, resolves on self-
destruction. To delude her sister as to her secret
purpose, she sends for a priestess from the gardens
of the Hesperides, pretending that her object is
by magical incantations again to relumine the pas-
sion of love in the breast of iEneas. This priest-
ess is endowed with the power, by potent verse
to free the oppressed soul from care, and by simi-
lar means to agitate the bosom with passion which
is free from its empire. She can arrest the head-
long stream, and cause the stars to return back in
their orbits. She can call up the ghosts of the
dead. She is able to compel the solid earth to
rock, and the trees of the forest to descend from
their mountains. To give effect to the infernal
spell. Dido commands that a funeral pyre shall be
set up in the interior court of her palace, and that
the arms of jEneas, what remained of his attire.
DIDO, 121
and the marriage-bed in which Dido had received
him, shall be heaped upon it. The pyre is hung
round with garlands, and adorned with branches
of cypress. The sword of ^Eneas and his picture
are added. Altars are placed round the pyre ; and
the priestess, with dishevelled hair, calls with ter-
rific charms upon her three hundred Gods, upon
Erebus, chaos, and the three-faced Hecate. She
sprinkles around the waters of Avemus, and adds
certain herbs that had been cropped by moonlight
with a sickle of brass. She brings with her the
excrescence which is found upon the forehead of
^ new-cast foal, of the size of a dried fig, and which
unless first eaten by the mare, the mother never
admits her young to the nourishment of her milk.
After these preparations, Dido, with garments
tucked up, and with one foot bare, approached the
altars, breaking over them a consecrated cake, and
embracing them successively in her arms. The
pyre was then to be set on fire ; and, as the differ-
ent objects placed upon it were gradually con-
sumed, the charm became complete, and the ends
proposed to the ceremony were expected to follow.
Dido assures her sister, that she well knew the un-
lawfulness of her proceeding, and protests that
nothing but irresistible necessity should have com-
pelled her to have recourse to these unhallowed
arts. She finally stabs herself, and expires.
12£ NUMAi.
ROMULUS.
» The early history of Rome is, as might be ex-
pected, interspersed with prodigies^ Romulus him*
iel£, the founder, after a prosperous reign of many
years, disappeared at last by a miracle. The king
assembled his army to a general review, when sudr
denly, in the midst of the ceremony, a tempest
arose, with vivid lightnings and tremendous crashes
of thunder. Romulus became enveloped in a cloud,
and, when, shortly afta:, a dear sky and serene
heavens succeeded, the king was no more seen«
and the throne upon which he had sat appeared
vacant. The people were somewhat dissatisfied
with the event, and appear to have suspected foul
play. But the next day Julius Proculus, a senator
of the highest character, shewed himself in the ge*
neral assembly, and assured them, that, with the
first dawn of the morning, Romulus had stood be-
fore him, and certified to him that the Gods had
taken him up to their celestial abodes, authorising
him withal to declare to his citizens, that theijr
arms should be £3r ever successful against all theif
enemies^.
NUMA.
Numa was the sec(md king of Rome : and, the
object of Romulus having been to render his peo-
ple soldiers and invincible in war, Numa, an old
• Livius, Lib. I, c. 16.
irtJAlA. 128
man and a philosopher, made it. his purpose to
civilise them, and deeply to imbue them with sen-
timents of religion* He appibaiB to have imagined
the thing best calculated to accomplish this pur-
pose, was to lead them by prodigies and the per-
suasion of an intercourse with the invisible world.
A shield fell from heav^i in his time, which he
caused to l^ carefully kept and consecrated to the
Gods; and he conceived no means so likely to
be efiectual to this end, as to make eleven other
shields e^aabtly like the otie which had descended
by miracle, so that, if ^m accident happened to
any one, the Romans might believe that the one
given to them by the divinity was still in their
posse9sion\
Numa gave to his people civil statutes, and a
code of observances in matters of religion ; and
these also were inforced with a divine sanction.
Numa met the goddess Egeria from time to time
in a cave ; and by her was instructed in the insti-
tutions he should give to the Romans : and this
barbarous people, awed by the venerable appear-
ance of their king, by the sanctity of his manners,
and still more by the divine fevour which was so
signally imparted to him, received his mandates
with exemplary reverence, and ever after impli-
citly conformed themselves to all that he had sug-
^ Dionysius Halicarnassensis.
« Liviu8,.Lib.. I, c. 19,21.
124 ACCIUS NAVIUS.
TULLUS HOSTILIUS.
TuIIus Hostilius, the third king of Rome, re-
stored again the policy of Romulus. In his time,
Alba, the parent state, was subdued and united to
its more flourishing colony. In the mean time
TuUus, who during the. greater part of his reign
had been distinguished by martial achievements,
in the latter part became the victim of supersti-
tions. A shower of stones fell from heaven, in
the manner, as Livy tells us, of a hail-storm. A
plague speedily succeeded to this prodigy*. Tid-
lus, awed by these events, gave his whole atten-
tion to the rites of religion. Among other things
he found in the sacred books of Numa an account
of a certain ceremony, by which, if rightly per-
formed, the appearance of a God, named Jupiter
Elicius, would be conjured up. But Tullus, who
had spent his best days in the ensanguined field,
proved inadequate to this new undertaking. Some
defects having occurred in his performance of the
magical ceremony, not only no God appeared ait
his bidding, but, the anger of heaven being awak-
^ened, a thunderbolt fell on the palace, and the
king, and the place of bis abode were consumed
together**. ^
ACCIUS NAVIUS.
In the reign of Tarquinius Priscus, the fifth
* Livius, Lib. I, c. 31. ^ Ibid.
SERVIUS TULLIUS. 125
king of Rome, another famous prodigy is recorded.
The king had resolved to increase the number of
the Roman cavalry. Romulus had raised the first
body with the customary ceremony of augury.
Tarquinius proposed to proceed in the present case,
omitting this ceremony. Accius Navius, the chief
augur, protested against the innovation. Tar*-
quin, in contempt of his interference, addressed
Accius, saying, " Come, augur, consult your birds,
and tell me, whether the thing I have now in my
mind can be done, or cannot be done." Accius
proceeded according to the rules of his art, and
told the king it could be done. "What I was
thinking of,'* replied Tarquinius, "was whether you
could cut this whetstone in two with this razor.**
Accius immediately took the one instrument and
the other, and performed the prodigy in the face
of the assembled people*.
SERVIUS TULLIUS.
Servius TuUius, the sixth king of Rome, was the
model of a disinterested and liberal politician, and
gave to his subjects those institutions to which,
more than to any other cause, they were indebted
for their subsequent greatness. Tarquinius sub-
jected nearly the whole people of Latium to his
rule, capturing one town of this district after an-
other. In Comiculum, one of these places, Ser^-
* Livius, Lib. I, c. 36.
126 SBRVIUS TULHU8.
vius TaHiiis, beh^ in extreme youth, was mad6
a prisoner of war, and tHubsequently dwelt as a
dlave in the Idng'i? palaoe^ One day as he \aj
asleep in the sight dB many, his head was observed
to be on fire. The bys^ders, terrified at the
spectacle, hastened to bring water that they might
extinguish the flames. The queen forbade their
assiduity, regarding the event as a token firom the
Gods. By and by the boy awoke of his own ac-
cord, and the flames at the same instant disap*-
peared. The queen, impressed with the prodigy,
became p^suaded that the youth was reserved for
high fortunes, and directed that he should be in-
iitructed accordingly in all liberalknowledge. Indue
time he wais married to the daughter of Tarquinius,
and was destined in all men's minds to succeed
in the throne, which took place in the sequeP.
In the year of Rome two hundred and ninety
one, forty-seven years after the expulsion of Tar-
quin, a dreadful plague broke out in the city, and
carried off* both the consuls, the augurs, and a
vast multitude of the people. The fi)llowing year
was distinguished by numerous prodigies ; fires
were seen in the heaves, and the earth shook,
spectres appeared, and supernatural voices were
heard, an ox spoke, and a shower of raw flesh fell
in tiie fields. Most of these prodigies were not
preternatural ; the speaking ox was probably re^
ceived on the report of a single hearer ; and the
*> LiTi^s, lab. I, c. 39.
THE SORiCEB38SS OF VIRGIL. 127
whole was invested with exaggerated teiror by
means of the desolation of the preceding year%
THE SORCERESS OF VIRGIL.
Prodigies are plentifully distributed through ihe
earlier parts of the Roman history ; but it is not
our purpose to enter into a chronological detail on
the subject. And in reality those already given,
except in the instance of Tullus Hostilius, do
not entirely fall within the scope of the present vo-^
lume. The Roman poets, Virgil, Horace, Ovid and
Lucan, give a fuller insight than the Latin prose-
writers, into the conceptions of their countrymen
upon the subject of incantations and magic.
The eighth eclogue of Virgil, entitled Phanna*
ceutria, is particularly to our purpose in this point.
There is an Idyll of Theocritus under the same
name ; but it is of an obscurer character ; and the
enchantress is not, like that of Virgil, triumphant
in the success of her arts.
The sorceress is introduced by Virgil, giving
direction to her female attendant as to the due
administration of her charms. Her object is to
read Daphnis, whom she styles her husband, to
his former love for her. At the same time, she
says, she will endeavour by magic to turn him
away from his wholesome sense. She directs her
attendant to burn vervam and frankincense ; and
^ Livius, lib. Ill, c. 6, et segq.
128 THE SORCERESS OF VIRGIL.
she Ascribes the highest efficacy to the solemn
chant, which, she says, can call down the moon
from its sphere, can make the cold-blooded snake
burst in the field, and was the means by which
Circe turned the companions of Ulysses into beasts.
She orders his image to be thrice bound round
with fillets of three colours, and then that it be
paraded about a prepared altar, while in binding
the knots the attendant shall still say, " Thus do
I bind the fillets of Venus." One image of clay
and one of wax are placed before the same fire j
and as the image of clay hardens, so does the
heart of Daphnis harden towards his new mis-
tress J and as the image of wax softens, so is the
heart of Daphnis made tender towards the sor-
ceress. She commands a consecrated cake to be
broken over the image, and crackling laurels to be
burned before it, that as Daphnis had tormented
her by his infidelity, so he in his turn may be
agitated with a returning constancy. She prays
that as the wanton heifer pursues the steer through
woods and glens, till at length, worn out with
fatigue, she lies down on the oozy reeds by the
banks of the stream, and the night-dew is unable
to induce her to withdraw, so Daphnis may be led
on after her for ever with inextinguishable love*
She buries the relics of what had belonged to
Daphnis beneath her threshold. She bruises poi-
sonous herbs of resistless virtue which had been
gathered in the kingdom of Pontus, herbs, which
CANIDIA. 129
enabled him who gave them to turn himself into a
hungry wolf prowling amidst the forests, to call up
ghosts from, the grave, and to translate the ripened
harvest from the field where it grew to the lands
of another. She orders her attendant to bring out
to the face of heaven the ashes of these herbs, and.
to cast them over her head into, the running
stream, and at the same time taking care, not to
look behind her. After all her efforts the sor-.
ceress begins to despair. She says, " Daphnis heeds
not my incantations, heeds not the Gods/' She
looks again j she perceives the ashes on the altar
emit sparkles of fire j she hears her faithful house-
dog bark before the door ; she says, " Can these
things be } or do lovers dream what they desire ?
It is not so I The real Daphnis comes ; I hear
his steps J he has left the deluding town ; he
hastens to my longing arms!*'
CANIDIA.
In the works of Horace occurs a frightful and
repulsive, but a curious detail of a scene of incanta-
tion*. Four sorceresses are represented as assem-
bled, Canidia, the principal, to perform, the other
three to assist in, the concoction of a charm, by
means of which a certain youth, named Varus, for
whom Canidia had conceived a passion, but who
regards the hag with the utmost contempt, may
« Epod. V.
K
ISO CANIDIA.
be made obsequious to her d^ires. Catiidia ap-
pears first, the locks of her dishevelled hair twined
round with venomous arid deadly serpents, order-
ing the wild fig-tree and the funereal cypress to be
rooted up from the sepulchres on which they grew,
knd these, together with the egg of a toad smeared
with blood, the plumage of the screech-owl, va-
rious herbs brought from Thessaly and Georgia,
and bones torn from the jaws of a famished dog,
to be burned in flames fed with perfumes from
Colchis. Of the assistant witches, one traces with
hurried steps the edifice, sprinkling it, as she goes,
with drops from the Avemus, her hair on her
head stiff and erect, like the quills of the sea-
hedge-hog, or the bristles of a hunted boar j and
another, who is believed by all the neighbour-
hood to have the faculty of conjuring the stars
and the moon down from heaven, contributes her
aid.
But, which is most horrible, the last of the assis-
tant witches is seen, armed with a spade, and, with
earnest and incessant labour, throwing up earth,
that she may dig a trench, in which is to be
plunged up to his chin a beardless youth, stripped
of his purple robe, the emblem of his noble descent^
arid naked, that, from his marrow already dry and
his liver (whea at length his eye-balls, long fixed
on the still renovated food which is withheld from
his famished jaws, have no more the power to dis-
cern), may be concocted the love-potion, from
CANIDIA. 131
which these hags promise tfaemselveB the most
marvellous results.
Horace presents b^cn^e us the hdpless victim
of their malice^ already iuclosed in die fatal trench,
first viewing their orgies with affirigfat, asking, by
the Gods who rule, the earth and all the race of
mortals, what means the tumult around him ?
He thenlntreats Canidia, by her children if ever
she had offspring, by the visible evidences of his
high rank, and by the never-failing vengeance
of Jupiter upon such misdeeds, to say why she
casts on him glances, befitting the fury of a step-
mother, or suited to a beast already made despe-
rate by the wounds of the hunter.
At length, no longer exhausting himself in fruit-
less intreaties, the victim has recourse in his
agonies to curses on his executi(mers. He says,
his ghost diall haunt them for ever, for no ven-
geance can expiate such cruelty. He will tear
their cfae^s with his fangs, for that poww is given
to the shades below. He will sit, a night-mare,
on their bosoms, driving away sleep from their
eyes ; while the enraged populace shall pursue
them with stones, and the wolves shaH gnaw and
howl over their unburied members. The unhappy
youth winds up all with the remark, that his
parents who will survive him, shall themselves wit^
ness this requital of the sorceresses* infernal deeds.
Canidia, unmoved by these menaces and ex-
ecrations, cotnplains of the slow progress of her
K 2
132 CANIDIA*
charms. She gnaws her fingers with rage. She
invokes the night and the moon, beneath whose
rays these preparations are carried on, now, while
the wild beasts lie asleep in the forests, and while
the dogs alone bay the superanuated letcher, who
relies singly on the rich scents with which he is
perfumed for success, to speed her incantations,
and signalise their power beneath the roof of him
whose love she seeks. She impatiently demands
why her drugs should be of less avail than those
of Medeaj with which she poisoned a garment,
that, once put on, caused Creusa, daughter of the
king of Corinth, to expire in intolerable torments ?
She discovers that Varus had hitherto baffled her
power by means of some magical antidote ; and
she resolves to prepare a mightier charm, that
nothing from earth or hell shall resist. " Sooner,'*
she says, " shall the sky be swallowed up in the
sea, and the earth be stretched a covering over
bothj than thou, my enemy, shalt not be wrapped
in the flames of love^ as subtle and tenacious as
those of burning pitch/'
It is not a little curious to remark the operation
of the antagonist principles of superstition and
scepticism among the Romans in this enlightened
period, as it comes illustrated to us in the compo-
sitions of Horace on this subject* In the piece,
the contents ofwHieh have just been given, things
are painted in all the solemnity and terror which
is characteristic of the darkest ages* But, a few
pages further on, we find the poet in a mock Pali-
ERICHTHO. 133
nodia deprecating the vengeance of the sorceress,
who, he says, has akeady sufficiently punished
him by turning through her charms his flaxen hair
to hoary white, and overwhehning him by day and
night with ceaseless anxieties. He feels himself
through her powerful magic tortured, like Hercules
in the envenomed shirt of Nessus, or as if he were
cast down into the flames of iEtna j nor does he
hope that she will cease compounding a thousand
deadly ingredients against him, till his very ashes
shall have been scattered by the resistless winds.
He offisrs therefore to expiate his offence at her
pleasure either by a sacrifice of an hundred oxen,
or by a lying ode, in which her chastity and spot-
less manners shall be applauded to the skies.
What Ovid gives is only a new version of the
charms and philtres of Medea\
ERICHTHO.
Lucan, in his Pharsalia% takes occasion, imme-
diately before the battle which was to decide the
fate of the Roman world, to introduce Sextus, the
younger son of Pompey, as impatient to enquire,
even by the most sacrilegious means, into the im-
portant events which are immediately impending.
He is encouraged in the attempt by the reflection,
that the .soil upon which they are now standing,
Thessaly, had been notorious for ages as the
*» Metamorphoses, Lib. VII. * Lib. VI.
134 ERICHTHO.
noxious and unwholesome seat of sorcery and
witchcraft. The poet therefore embraces this oc*
casion to expatiate on the various modes in which
this detested art was considered aa displa^ng
itself. And^ however he may have been ambitious
to seise this Opportunity to display the wealth of
his imagination, the whole does not fail to be
curious, as an exhibition of the system of magical
|)Ower sofer as the matter in hand is ccmcemed.
The soil of Thessaly, says the poet, m in the
utmost degree fertile in poisonous herbs, and her
rocks confess the power of the sepulchral song of
the magician. There a vegetation springs up of
virtue to compel the Gods j and Colchis itself im-
ports from Thessaly treasures of this sort which
die cannot boast as her own. The chaunt of the
Thessalian witch penetrates the furthest ^at of the
Gods, and contains words so powerful, that not
the care of the skies, or of the revolving spheres,
can avail as an excuse to the deities to decline its
force. Babylon and Memphis yield to the supe-
rior might J and the Gods of foreign climes fly to
fulfil the dread behests of the magician.
Prompted by Thessalian song, love glides into
the hardest hearts ; and even the severity of age
is taught to burn with youthful fires. The ingre-
dients of the poisoned cup, nor the excrescence
found on the forehead of the new-cast fosd, can rival
in eflScacy the witching incantation. The soul is
melted by its single force* The heart which not
BRICHTHO. 135
all the attractions of the genial bed could fire, nor
the influence of the most beautiful form, the wheel
of the sorceress shall force from its bent.
But the effects are perhaps still more marvellous
that are produced on inanimate and unintellectual
nature. The eternal succession of the world is
suspended ; day delays to rise on the earth ; the
skies no long^ obey their ruler. Nature becomes
still at the incantation : and Jove, accustomed to
guide the machine, is astonished to find the poles
disobedient to his impulse. Now the sorceress
deluges the plains with rain, hides the face of
heaven with murky clouds, and the thunders roll,
unbidden by the thunderer. Anon she shakes her
hair, and the darkness is dispersed, and the whole
horizon is cleared. At one time the sea rages,
urged by no storm ; and at another is smooth as
glass, in defiance of the tempestuous North. The
breath of the enchanter carries along the bark in
the teeth of tiiewind; the headlong torrent is sus-
pended, and rivers run back to their source. The
Nile overflows not in the summer ; the crooked
Meander shapes to itself a direct course ; the slug^
gish Arar gives new swiftness to the rs^id Rhone i
and the mountains bow their heads to their foun-
dations. Clouds shroud the peaks of the cloudless
Olympus i and the Scythian snows dissolve, un^
urged by the sun. The sea, though impelled by
the tempestuous constellations, is counteracted by
witchcraft, and ho longer beats along the shore.
1S6 ERICHTHO.
Earthquake shake the solid globe j and the
affrighted inhabitants behold both hemispheres at
once. The animals most dreaded for their fury,
and whose rage is mortal, become tame ; the hun-
gry tiger and the lordly lion fawn at the sorce-
ress's feet; the snake untwines all her folds amid&t
the snow ; the viper, divided by wounds, unites
agaiti its severed parts j and the envenomed ser-
pent pines and dies under the power of a breath
more fatal than his own.
What, exclaims the poet, is the nature of the
compulsion thus exercised on the Gods, this
obedience to song and to potent herbs, this fear
to disobey and scorn the enchanter? Do they
yield from necessity, or is it a voluntary subjec-
tion? Is it the piety of these hags that obtains
the reward, or by menaces do they secure their
purpose? Are all the Gods subject to this con-
trol, or, is there one God upon whom it has
power, who, himself compelled, compels the ele-
ments ? The stars fall from heaven at their com-
mand. The silver moon yields to tiieir execra-
tions, and burns with a smouldering flame, even as
when the earth comes between her and the sun,
and by its shadow intercepts its rays ; thus is the
moon brought lower and more low, till she covers
with her froth the herbs destined to receive her
malignant influence.
But*Erichtho, the witch of the poet, flouts all
these arts, as too poor and timid for her purposes.
ERICHTHO. 137
She never allows a roof to cover her horrid head,
or confesses the influence of the Houshold Gods,
She inhabits the deserted tomb, and dwells in a
grave from ivhich the ghost of the dead has been
previously expelled. She knows the Stygian abodes,
and the counsels of the infemals. Her counte-
nance is lean ; and her complexion overspread
with deadly paleness. Her hair is neglected and
matted. But when clouds and tempests obscure
the stars, then she comes forth, and defies the
midnight lightning. Wherever she treads, the
fruits of the earth become withered, and the whole-
some air is poisoned with her breath. She offers
no prayers, and pours forth no supplications j she
has recourse to no divination. She delights to
profane the sacred altar with a funereal flame, and
pollutes the incense with a torch from the pyre.
The Gods yield at once to her voice, norrdare to
provoke her to a second mandate* She incloses
the living man within the confines of the grave;
she subjects to sudden death those who were de^
stined to a protracted age ; and she brings back
to life the corses of the dead. She snatches the
smoaking cinders, and the bones whitened with
flame, from the midst of the pile, and wrests the
torch from the . hand of the mourning parent. She
seizes the fragments of the burning shroud, and the
embers yet moistened with blood. But, where
the sad remains are already hearsed in marble, it
is there that she most delights to exercise her
XS8 ERICHTHO.
sacrilegious power. She tears the limbs of the
dead, and digs out their eyes. She gnaws their
fingers. She separates with her teeth the rope on
the gibbet, and tears away the murderer from the
cross on which he hung suspended. She appUes
to her purposes the entrails withered with the
wind, and the marrow that had be^n dried by the
SUB. She bears away the nails whic^ hiad pierced
the hands and feet of the criminal, the clotted blood
whidi had distilled from his wounds, and the si*
news that had held him suspended. She pounces
upon the body of the dead in the battle-field, an-
ticipating the vulture and the beast of prey ; but
she does not divide the limbs with a knife, nor
tear them asunder with her hands^: she watches
the $q)proach of the wolf, that she may wrench
the morsels from his hungry jaws. Nor does the
thought of murder deter her, if her rites require
the Uving blood, first spurting from the lacerated
throat. She drags forth the foetus from its preg-
nant mother, by a passage which violence has
opened. Wherever there is occasion for a bolder
and more remorseless ghost, with her own hand
she dismisses him from life ; man at every period
of existence frunishes her with materials. She
drags, away the first down from the cheek of the
stripling, and wi1;h her left hand cuts the favourite
lock from the head of the young man. Often she
watches with seemingly pious care the dying hours
of a relative, and seizes the occasion to bite his
ERICHTHD. 1S9
lips, to compress his windpipe, and whisper in his
expiring organ some message to the infernal shades^
Septus, guided by the general feme of this wo-
man, sought her in her haunts. He chose his
time, in the depth, of the night, when the sun is
at its lowermost distance from the upper sky. He
took his way through the desert fields. He took
{or companimis the associates, the accu^omed
ministers of his crimes. Wandering ammig broken
graves and crumbling sepulchres, they discovered
her, sitting sublime on a ragged rode, where
mount Hsemus stretches its roots to the Pharsalic
fidd. She was mumbling charms of the Magi and
the magical Gods. For she feared that tiie war
mi^t yet be transferred to other than the Ema^
thian fields. The sorceress was busy therefwe en-
chanting tiie soil of Fhilippi, and scattering on its
surface the juice of potent herbs, that it might be
heaped with carcasses of the dead, and saturated
witii their blood, that Macedon, mid not Italy,
might receive the bodies of departed kings and
the bones of the noble, and might be amply peo-
pled with the shades of men. Her dioicest labour
was as to the earth where slKnild be d^>osited
the prostrate Pompey, or the limbs of the mighty
Sextus {q)proached, and bespoke her thus : << Oh,
glory of Haemonia, that hast the power to divulge
the fates of men, or canst turn aside fate itself firom
its prescribed course, I pray thee to exercise thy
140 ERICHTHO.
gift in disclosing events to come. Not the mean-
est of the Koman race am I, the offspring of an
illustrious chieftain,, lord of the world in the one
case, or in the other the destined heir to my
father's calamity. I stand on a tremendous and
giddy height : snatch me from this posture of
doubt ; let me not blindly rush on, and blindly
fall; extort this secret from the Gods, or force
the dead to confess what they know.*'
To whom the Thessalian crone replied : " If
you asked to change the fete of an individual,
though it were to restore an old man, decrepid
with age, to vigorous youth, I could comply j but
to break the eternal chain of causes and conse-
quences exceeds even our power. You seek however
only, a foreknowledge of events to come, and you
shall be gratified. Meanwhile it were best, where
slaughter has affprded so ample afield, to seliect
the body of one newly deceased, and whose flex-
ible organs shall be yet capable of speech, not with
lineaments already hardened in the sun.**
Saying thus, Erichtho proceeded (having first
with her art made the night itself more dark, and
involved her head in a pitchy cloud), to explore
the field, and examine one by one the bodies of
the unburied dead. As she approached, the wolves
fled before her, and the birds of prey, unwillingly
sheathing their talons, abandoned their repast,
while the Thessalian witch, searching into the
vital parts of, the frames before her, at length fixed
ERICHTHO. 141
on one whose lungs were uninjured, and whose
organs of speech had sustained no wound. The;
fate of many hung in doubt, till she had made her
selection. Had the revival of whole armies been
her will,, armies would have stood up obedient to
her bidding. She passed a hook beneath the jaw
of the selected one, and, fastening it to a cord,^
dragged him along over rocks and stones, till she
reached a cave, overhung by a projecting ridge.
A gloomy fissure in the ground was there, of a
depth almost reaching to the Infernal Gods, where
the yew-tree spread thick its horizontal branches,
at all times excluding the light of the sun. Fear-
ful and withering shade was there, and noisome
slime cherished by the livelong night. The air
was heavy and flagging as that of the Taenarian
promontory ; and hither the God of hell permits
his ghosts to extend their wanderings. It is doubt-
ful whether the sorceress called up the dead to
attend her here, or herself descended to the abodes
of Pluto. She put on a fearful and variegated
robe ; she covered her face with her dishevelled
hair, and bound her brow with ^ wreath of
vipers.
Meanwhile she observed Sextus afraid, with his
eyes fixed on the ground, and his companions
trembling ; and thus she reproached them. " Lay
aside,'* she said, " your vainly-conceived terrors I
You shall behold only a living and a human figure,
whose accents you may listen to with perfect secu-
142 ERICHTHO;
rity. If tills alarms you, what would you say, if
you should have seen the Stygian lakes, and the
shores burning with sulphur unconsumed, if the
furies atood before you, and Cerberus with his
mane of vipers, and the gianta chained in eternal
adamant ? Yet ail these you mi^t have witnessed
unharmed ; for all these would quail at the terror
of my brow.**
She spoke, and next plied the dead body with
her arts. She supples his wounds, and infuses
fresh blood into his veins : she frees his scars from
the clotted gore, and penetrates them with froth
from the moon. She mixes whatever nature has
engendered in its most fearftil caprices, foam from
the jaws of a mad dog, the entrails of the lynx, the
backbone of the hyena, and the marrow of a stag
that had dieted on serpents, the sinews of the re*
mora, and the eyes of a dragon, the eggs of the
eagle, the flying serpent of Arabia, the viper that
guards the pearl in the Red Sea, the slough of the
hooded snake, and the ashes that, remain when the
phoenix has been consumed. To these she adds
all venom that has a name, the foliage 4)f herbs
over which she has sung her charms, and on which
she had voided her rheum as they grew.
At length she chaunts her incantation to the
Stygian Gods, in a voice compounded of all dis*-
cords, and altogether sdien to human organs. It
resembles at once the barking of a dog, and the
howl of a wolf J it consists of the hooting of the
ERICHTHO. 143
screeqh-owl, the yelling of a ravenous wild beast,
and the fearful hiss of a serpent. It borrows some-
what, from the roar o£ tempestuous waves, the
hollow rushing of the winds among the branches
c^the forest, and the tremendous crash of deafen-
ing thunder.
"Ye Furies,'* she cries, "and dreadful Styx, ye
sufferings of the damned, and Chaos, for ever
eager to destroy the fair harmony of worlds, and
thou, Pluto, condemned to an eternity of ungrate-
fiil existence. Hell, and Elysium, of which no
Thessalian witch shall partake, Proserpine, for
evefT cut off from thy health-giving mother, and
horrid Hecate, Cerjibf us curst with incessant hun*.
ger, ye Destinies, and Charon endlessly murmur-
ing at the, task I impose of bringing back the dead
again to the land of the living, hear me ! — if I call
on you with a voice sufficiently impious and
abominable, if I have never sung this chaunt, un-
sated with human genre, if I have frequently laid
on your altars the fruit of the pregnant moth6r^
bathing its contents with the reeking brain, if I
have placed on a dish before you the head and
entrails of an infant on the point to be bom— r
"I ask not of you a ghost, already a tenant of
the Tartarean abodes, and long familiarised to the
shades below, but one who has recently quitted
the light of day, and who yet hovers over the
mouth of hell : let him hear these incantations,
and immediately after descend to his destined
144 ERICHTHO.
placet Let him articulate suitaWe omens to the
son of his general, having so late been himself a
soldier of the great Pompey I Do this, as you love
the very sound and rumour of a civil war 1"
Saying this, behold, the ghost of the dead man
stood erect before her, trembling at the view of
his own unanimated limbs, and loth to enter again
the confines of his wonted prison. He iihrinks t0
invest himself with the gored bosom, and the
fibres from which death had separated him. Un-
happy wretch, to whom death had not given the
privilege to die ! Erichtho, impatient at the un-
looked for delay, lashes the unmoving corpse with
one of her serpents. She calls anew on the powers
of hell, and threatens to pronounce the dr^dful
name, which cannot be articulated without con-
sequences never to be thought of, nor without the
direst necessity to be ventured upon.
At length the congealed blood becomes liquid
and warm ; it oozes firom the wounds, and creeps
steadily along the veins and the members; the
fibres are called into action beneath the gelid
breast, and the nerves once more become instinct
with life. Life and death are there at once. The
arteries beat j the muscles are braced ; the body
raises itself, not by degrees, but at a single im-
pulse, and stands erect. The eyelids unclose. The
countenance is not that of a living subject, but of
the dead. The paleness of the complexion, the
iigidity of ikie lines, remain ; and he looks about
ERICHTHO. 145
Svith an unmeaning stare, but utters no sound.
He waits on the potent enchantress.
*• Speak!*' said she; " and ample shall be your
i'eward* You shall not again be subject to the art
of the magician. I will commit your members to
such a sepulchre; I will burn your form with
such wood, and will chaunt such a charm over
your ftmeral pyre, that all incantations shall there*
after assail you in vain. Be it enough, that you
have once been brought back to life! Tripods,
and the voice of oracles deal in ambiguous re-
sponses ; but the voice of the dead is perspicuous
and certain to him who receives it with an un-
shrinking spirit. Spare not! Give names to
things ; give places a clear designation ; speak
with a full and articulate voice/'
Saying this, she added a further spell, qualified
to give to him who was to answer, a distinct know-
ledge of that respecting which he was about to be
consulted. He accordingly delivers the responses
demanded of him ; and, that done, earnestly re-
quires of the witch to be dismissed. Herbs and
magic rites are necessary, that the corpse may be
again unanimated, and the spirit never more be
liable to be recalled to the realms of day. The
sorceress constructs the funeral pile ; the dead
man places himself thereon ; Erichtho applies the
torch ; and the charm is for ever at jin end.
Lucan in this passage is infinitely too precise,
and exhausts his muse in a number of^particulars,
L
146 8ERTOKKJS.
where be had better have been more succinct and
select. He displays the prolific exuberance of a
young poet, who had not yet taught himself the
multiplied advantages of compression* He bad
not learned the ptinciplet JRelmqicere qucadesperat
tf^actata nitescere posse,^ But, ag this is the fullest
traumeration of the forms of Witchcraft that occurs
in the writers of antiquity, it seemed proper to
give it to the reader entire*
SERTORIUS.
The story of Sertorius and his hind, which
occurred about thirty years before, may not be
improperiy introduced here. It is told by Plu-
tarch in the spirit of a philosopher, and as a mere
deception played by that general, to render the
barbarous people of Spain more devoted to his
service. But we must suppose that it had, at
least for the time, the full efiect of something pre*
tematural. Sertorius was one of the most highly
gifted and well balanced characters that is to be
found in Roman story. He considered with the
soundest discernment the nature of the persons
among whom he was to act, and conducted himself
accordingly. The story in Plutarch is this.
•* So soone as Sertorius arriued from Africa,^ he
straight leauied men of warre, \and with them
subdued the people of Spaine fronting upon his
^ Horat, de Arte Poetica, v. 150u
SERTORIUS. 147
maK^es^ of which the more part did willmgly
submit themfielues, upon the bruit that ran a£
him to be mercifuU and courteous, and ft valiant
man besides in preaj^it danger, Furtheraiore, he
ladked no fine deuises and subtilties to win thieir
goodwils ; as among others, the policy, and deuiw
of the hind. There was a poore man of the coun«
trey called Spanua, who meeting by chance one
day with a hind in his way that had newly calued»
flying &om the himters, be let the danmie go, not
being able to take her ; and running aftear her calfe
tooke it, which was a young bind, and of a strange
haire, for she was all milk-white. It chanced so,
that Sertorius was at that time in those parts. So,
this poore man presented Sertorius with his young
hind, which he gladly receiued, and which with
time he made so tame, that she would come to
him when he called her, and follow him where^
euer he went, being nothing the wilder for the
daily sight of auch a numba* of armed souldiers
together as they were, nor yet afraid of the noise
axid tumult of the campe. Insomuch as Seitorius
by Uttle and little made it a miracle, making the
simple barbarous people beleeue that it was a gift
that Diana had sent him, by the which she made
him understand of many and mandrie tibings to
come: knowing well inough of himselfe, that the
barbarous people wexe men easily deceiued, and
quickly caught by any subtill sup^stition, besides
that by art also he brought them to beleeue it as a
L 2
148 . SERTORIUS.
thing verie true. For when he had any secret
intelligence giuen him, that the enemies would
inuade some part of the countries and prouinces
subject vnto him, or that they had taken any of
his forts from him by any intelligence or sudden
attempt, he straight told them that his hind spake
to him as he slept, and had warned him both to
arme his men, and put himselfe in strength. In
like manner if he had heard any newes that one of
his lieutenants had wonne a battell, or that he had
any aduantage of his enemies, he would hide the
messenger, and bring his hind abroad with a gar-
land and coller of nosegayes : and then say, it was
a token of some good newes comming towards
him, perswading them withall to be of good cheare;
and so did sacrifice to the Gods, to giue them
thankes for the good tidings he should heare be-
fore it were long. Thus by putting this supersti-
tion into their heades, he made them the more
tractable and obedient to his will, in so much as
they thought they were not now gouerned any
more by a stranger wiser than themselues, but
were steadfastly pers waded that they were rather
led by some certaine God.*'
" Now was Sertorius very heauie, that no man
could tell him what was become of his white hind:
for thereby all his subtilltie and finenesse to keepe
the barbarous people in obedience was taken away,
and then specially when they stood in need of
most comfort. But by good hap, certaine of his
SERTORIUS. 149
sduldiers that had lost themselves in the night;
met with the hind in their way, and knowing her
by her colour, tooke her and brought her backe
againe. Sertorius hearing of her, promised them
a good reward, so that they would tell no lining
creature that they brought her againe, and there-
upon made her to be secretly kept. Then within
a few dayes after, he came abroad among them,
and with a pleasant countenance told the noble
men and chiefe captaines of these barbarous peo-
pie, how the Gods had reuealed it to him in
his dreame, that he should shortly haue a maruel-
lous good thing happen to him : and with these
words sate downe in his chaire to giue audience.
Whereupon they that kept the hind not farre from
thence, did secretly let her go. The hind being
loose, when she had spied Sertorius, ranne straight
to his chaire with great joy, and put her head be-
twixt his legges, and layed her mouth in his right
hand, as she before was wont to do. Sertorius
also made very much of her, and of purpose ap-
peared maruellous glad, shewing such tender af-
fection to the hind, as it seemed the water stood
in his eyes for joy. The barbarous people that
stood there by and beheld the same, at the first
were much amazed therewith, but afterwards when
they had better bethought themselues, for ioy they
clapped their hands together, and waited upon
Sertorius to his lodging with great and ioyfull
shouts, saying, and steadfastly beleeuing, that he
150 SIMON MAGUS.
he was a heavenly creature, and bdoued of the
Gods*.**
CASTING OUT DEVILS.
We are now brought down to the era of the
Christiazi religion ; and there is repeated mention
of sorcery in the books of the New Testament.
One of the most frequent miracles recorded of
Jesns Christ is called the " carting out devils.*'
The Pharis^s in the Evangelist, for the purpose
of depreciating this evidence of his divine mission,
are recorded to have said, *• this fellow doth not
caist out devils, but by Bedzebub, the prince of
devils*" Jesus, among other remarks in refutation
of this opprobrium, rgoins upon them, " If I by
Beelzebub cast out devils, by whom do your chil*
dren cast them out*?*' Here then we have a plain
insinuation of sorcery from the lips of Christ him*
self, at the same time that he appears to admit that
his adversaries produced supernatural achievements
similar to his own.
SIMON MAGUS.
But the most remarkable passage in the New
Testament on the subject of sorcery, is one which
describes the proceedings of Simon Magus, as
follows.
* Plutarch, North's Translation. * Matt. c. xii, v. 24, 27.
SIMON MAOU8. 151
^* Then Philip went down to the city of Samaria,
and preached Christ unto them* But there was a
certain man, called Simon, whidb before time in
the same city used sorcery, and bewitched the
people of Samaria, giving out that himself was
some. great one« To whom they aU gave heed,
from the least to the greatest, saying. This man is
the great power of God. And to him they had
regard, because that of long time he had bewitched
them with sorceries. But, when they bdieved
PhiJip, preaching the things concerning the king-
dom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they
were baptized both men and women. Then Simon
himself believed also. And, when he was bap-
tized, he continued with Philip, and wondered,
beholding the miracles and signs which were
done.
<* Now, when the apostles which were at Jeru-
salem heard that Samaria had received the word
of God, they sent unto them Peter and John.
Who, when they were come down, prayed for
them, that they mi^t receive the Holy Ghost.
For as yet he was &llen upon none of them : only
they were baptized in the name <rftbe Lord Jesus.
Then laid they their hands on them, and they
received the Holy Ghost.
*^ And, when Simon saw that, through the
laying on of the apostles' hands, the Holy Ghost
was given, he offered them money, saying. Give
me also this power, that on whomsoever I lay
152 3IM0N MAGUS.
hands he may receive the Holy Ghost. But
Peter said unto him, Thy money perish with thee I
because thou hast thought that the gift of God
might be purchased with money. Thou hast
neither part nor lot in this matter : for thy heart
is not right in the sight of God. Repent therefore
of this thy wickedness, and pray God, if perhaps
the thought of thy heart may be forgiven thee:
for I perceive that thou art in the gall of bitter*
ness, and in the bond of iniquity. Then answered
Simon, and said. Pray ye to the Lord for me, that
none of these things which ye have spoken come
upon meV*
This passage of the New Testament leaves us
in considerable uncertainty as to the nature of
the sorceries, by which "of a long time Simon
had bewitched the people of Samaria.*' But the
fathers of the church, Clemens Romanus and
Anastasius Sinaita, have presented us with a de-
tail of the wonders he actually performed. When
and to whom he pleased he made himself invisible j
he created a man out of air ; he passed through
rocks and mountains without encountering an
obstacle ; he threw himself from a precipice un-
injured J he flew along in the air ; he flung himself
in the fire without being burned. Bolts and
chains were impotent to detain him. He animated
statues, so that they l^peared to every beholder
to be men and women; he made all the furniture
** Acts, c. viii.
ELYMAS, THE SORCEllER. 153
of the houise and the table to change places as re-
quired, without a visible mover; he metamor-
phosed his countenance and visage into that of
another person ; he could make himself into a
sheep» or a goat, or a serpent ; he walked through
the streets attended with a multitude of strange
figures, which he affirmed to be the souls of the
departed; he made trees and branches of trees
suddenly to spring lip where he pleased ; he set
up and deposed kings at will ; he caused a sickle
to go into a field of corn, which unassisted would
mow twice as fast as the most industrious reaper^.
Thus endowed, it is difficult to imagine what he
thought he would have gained by purchasing from
the apostles their gift of working miracles. But
Clemens Romanus informs us that he complained
that, in his sorceries, he was obliged to employ
tedious ceremonies and incantations ; whereas the
apostles appeared to effect their wonders without
difficulty and effort, by. barely speaking a word***
ELYMAS, THE SORCERER.
But Simon Magus is not the only magiciatf
spoken of in the New Testament. When the
apostle Paul came to Paphos in the isle of Cyprus,
« Clemens Romanus, Recognitiones, Lib. II, cap. 9. Anas-
tasius Sinaita, Quiestiones ; Quaestio 20.
<* Clemens Romanus, Constitutiones Apostolici, Lib. VI,
cap. 7.
154 ELYMAS, THB SORCERER.
he found the Roman governor divided in his pre^
ference between Paul and Elymas, the sorcerer,
who before the governor withstood Paul to his
face. Then Paul, prompted by his indignation,
said, " Oh, full of all subtlety and mischirf, diild
of the devil, enemy of all righteousness, wilt thou
not cease to pervert the right ways of the Lord ?
And now, behold, the hand of the Lord is upon
thee, and thou shalt be blind, not seeing the sun
for a season." What wonders Elymas effected to
deceive the Roman governor we are not told : but
" immediately there fell on him a mist and a dark«
ness; and he went about, seeking some to lead
him by the hand%**
In another instance we find certain vagabond
Jews, exorcists, who pretended to cast out devils
from the possessed. But they came to the apostle,
and " confessed, and shewed their deeds. Many of
them also which used curious arts, brought their
books together, and burned them before all. And
they counted the price of them, and found it fifty
thousand pieces of silver^?'
It is easy to see however on which side the
victory lay. The apostles by their devotion and
the integrity of their proceedings triumphed ; while
those whose only motive was selfishness, the ap-
plause of the vulgar, or the admiration of the super-
ficial, gained the honours of a day, and were then
swept away into the gulf of general oblivion.
* Acts, c. xiii. ^ Ibid, c. xix.
VESPASIAN. 155
NERO.
The arts o£ the magician are said to have been
called inta action by Nero upon occasion of the
assassination of his mother, Agrippina^ He was
visited with occasional fits ci the deepest remcH^e in
the recollection of his enormity. Notwithstanding
all the ostentatious applauses and congratulations
which he obtained from the senate, the army and
the people, he complained that he was perpetually
haunted with the ghost of his mother^ and pursued
by the furies with flaming torches and whips^ He
therefore caused himself to be attended by magi-
cians, who employed their arts to conjure up the
shade of Agrippina, and to endeavour to obtain
her forgiveness for the crime perpetrated hy her
son*. We are not informed of the success of their
evocations.
VESPASIAN.
In ihe reign o£ Vespasian we meet with a re*
markable record of supernatural power, though it
does not strictly Mi under the head of magic It
is related by both Tacitus and Suetonius. Vespa-
sian having taken up his abode for some months
at Alexandria, a blind man, of the common people^
came to him, earnestly intreating the emperor to
assist in curing his infirmity, alleging that he was
prompted to apply by the admonition of the God
6 Suetonius, Lib. VI, cap. 14.
156 VESPASIAN.
Serapis, and importuning the prince to anoint his
cheeks and the balls of his eyes with the royal
spittle. Vespasian at first treated the supplication
with disdain ; but at lengthy moved by the fervour
of the petitioner, inforced as it was by the flattery
of his courtiers, the emperor began to think that
every thing would give way to his prosperous for-
tune, and yielded to the poor man's desire. With
a confident carriage therefore, the multitude of
those who stood by being full of expectation, he
did as he was requested, and the desired success
immediately followed. Another supplicant ap-
peared at the same time, who had lost the use of
his hands, and intreated Vespasian to touch the
diseased members with his foot ; and he also was:
cured*.
Hume has remarked that many circumstances
contribute to give authenticity to thijs miracle,
" if/' as he says, " any evidence could avail to
establish so palpable a falsehood. The gravity,
solidity, age and probity of so great an emperor,
who^ through the whole course of his life, con-
versed in a. familiar manner with his friends and
courtiers, and never affected any airs of divinity :
the historian, st contemporary writer, noted for
candour and veracity, and perhaps the greatest
and most penetrating genius of all antiquity : and
lastly, the persons from whose authority he related
the miracle, who we may presume to have been of
* Tacitus, Historiae, Lib. IV, cap. 81. Suetonius, Lib. VIII,
cap. 7.
APOLLONIUS OF TYANA. 157
established character for judgment and honour;
eye-witnesses of the fact, and confirming their
testimony, as Tacitus goes on to say, after the
ilavian family ceased to be in power, and could
no longer give any reward as the price of a lie\"
APOLLONIUS OF TYANA.
Apolldnius of Tyana in Asia Minor was bom
nearly at the same time as Jesus Christ, and ac-
quired great reputation while he lived, and for a
considerable time after. He was bom of wealthy
parents, and seems early to have betrayed a pas-
sion for philosophy. His father, perceiving this,
placed him at fourteen years of age under Euthy-
demus, a rhetorician of Tarsus; but the youth
speedily became dissatisfied with the indolence
and luxury of the citizens, and removed himself to
-ffigas, a neighbouring town, where was a temple
of ^sculapius, and where the God was supposed
sometimes to appear in person. Here he became
professedly a disciple of the sect of Pythagoras.
He refrained from animal food, and subsisted en-
tirely on fruits and herbs. He went barefoot, and
wore no article of clothing made from the skins of
animals\ He further imposed on himself a novi*
ciate of five years silence. At the death of his
father, he divided his patrimony equally with his
** Hume, Essays, Part III, Section X.
» Philostratus, Vita ApoUonii, Lib. I, cap, 5, 6.
158 APOLLONIUS OF TYANA.
brother ; and, that brother having wasted his ertate
by prodigality, he again made an equal division
with him of what remained**. He travelled to
Babylon and Susa in pursuit (^knowledge, and
even among the Brachmans of India, and appears
particularly to have addicted himself to the study
of magic^ He was of a beautiful countenance
and a commanding figure, and, by means of these
thingSt combined with great knowledge, a com-
posed and striking carriage, and mudi natural elo^
quence, appears to have won universal fitvomr
wherever he went. He is said to have professed
the understanding of all languages without learn*
ing them, to read the thoughts of men, and to be
able to interpret the language o£ animals. A
power of working miracles attended him in all
places'*.
On one occasion he announced to the people of
Ephesus the approach of a terrible pestilence; but
the citizens paid no attention to his prc^hecy.^
The calamity however having overtaken them,
they sent to ApoUonius who was then at Smyrna,
to implore his assistance. He obeyed the sum-
mons. Having assembled the inhabitants, there
was seen among them a poor, old and decrepid
beggar, clothed in rags, hideous of visage, and
with a peculiarly fearfiil and tremendous expi^r
sion in his eyes. ApoUonius called out to the
*» Philostratus, Vita ApoUojui, Lib. I, c. 10,
c Ibid, c, 13. ^ Ibid, a. 13, 14.
APOLLONIUS OF TYANA. 159
Eph^ians, " This is aa enemy to the Gods ; turn
all your animosity against him, and stone him to
death 1*' The old man in the most piteous tones
besought tlieir mercy. The citlzais were shocked
with the inhumanity of the prophet. Some how-
ever of the more thoughtless flung a few stones^
without any determined purpose. The old man,
who had ptood hitherto crouching, and with his
eyes half-closed, now erected his figure, and cast
on the crowd gknces, fearful, and indeed diabolic
caL The Ephesians imderstood at once that this
was the genius of the plague. They showered
upon him stones without mercy, so as not only to
cover him, but to produce a considerable mound
where he had stood. After a time ApoUonius com-
Humded them to take away the stones, that they
might discover what sort of an enemy they had
destroyed. Instead of a man they now saw an enor-
mous black dog, of the size of a lion, and whose
mouth aiid jaws were covered with a thick en-
venomed froth*.
Another mu^e was performed by ApoUonius
in favour of a young man, named Menippus of
Corinth^ five and twenty years of age, for whom
the prophet entertained a singular fevour. This
man conceived himself to be beloved by a rich and
beautiful woman, who made advances to him, and
to whom he was on the point of being contracted
in marriage. ApoUonius warned Jus young fiiend
<» Philo«tratus, lib. IV, c. 10.
160 APOLLONIUS OF TYANA*
against the match in an enigmatical "way, telling
him that he nursed a serpent in his bosom. This
however did not deter Menippus. All things
werfe prepared ; and the wedding table was spread.
Apollonius meanwhile came among them, and pre-
vented the calamity. He told the young man that
the dishes before him, the wine he was drinking,
the vessels of gold and silver that appeared around
him, and the very guests themselves were un-
real and illusory; and to prove his words, he
caused them immediately to vanish. The bride
alone was refractory. She prayed the philosopher
not to torment her, and not to compel her to con^
fess what she was. He was however inexorable.
She at length owned that she was an empuse (a
sort of vampire), and that she had determined to
cherish and pamper Menippus, that she might in
the conclusion eat his flesh, and lap up his bloods
One of the miracles of Apollonius consisted in
raising the dead. A young woman of beautiful
person was laid out upon a bier, and was in the
act of being conveyed 4;o the tomb. She was fol-
lowed by a multitude of friends, weeping and
lamenting, and among others by a young man, to
whom she had been on the point to be married.
Apollonius met the procession, and commanded
those who bore it, to set down the bier. He ex*
horted the proposed bridegroom to dry up his
tears. He enquired the name of the deceased,
* Philostratus, Lib. IV, c. 25.
AP0LL0NIU5 OF TV AN A. 16 1
and, saluting her accordingly,' look hold of her
hand, and murmured over her certain mystical
words. At this act the maiden raised herself on
her seat, and presently returned home, whole and
sound, to the hoitee of her father^.
Towards the end of his life Apollonius was ac-
cused before Domitian of having conspired with
Nerva to put an end to the reign of the tyrant.
He appears to have proved that he was at another
place, and therefore could not have engaged in the
conspiracy that was charged upon him. Domitian
publicly cleared him from the accusation, but at
the same time required him>not to withdraw from
Rome, till the emperor had first had a private con-
ference with' him^ To this requisition Apollonius
replied in the most spirited terms. ** I thank your
majesty,*' said he, "for the justice you have ren-
dered me. But I cannot: submit to what you re-
quire. - . How can I be secure from the false accu-
sations of the unprincipled informers who infest
your court?. It is by. their means that whole
towns of your empire are unpeopled, that provinces
are involved in mourning and tears, your armies
are in mutiny, your senate fiill of suspicion and
alarms, and the islands are crowded with exiles.
It is not for myself that I speak, my soul is invul-
nerable to your enmity ; and it is not given to you
by the Gods to become master of my body.'* And,
having thus given utterance to the virtuous an-
« Philostratus, Lib. IV, c, 45.
M
162 APOLLONIUS OF TYANA,
guish of his spirit, he suddenly became invisible in
the midst of a full assembly^ and was immediately
after seen at Puteoli in the neighbourhood of
Mount Vesuvius *••
Domitian pursued the prophet no further ; and
he passed shortly after to Greece, to Ionia, and
finally to Ephesus. He every where delivered
lectures as he went, and was attended with crowds
of the most distinguished auditors, and with the
utmost popularity. At length at Ephesus, when
he was in the midst of an eloquent harangue, he
suddenly became silent. He seemed as if he saw
a spectacle which engrossed all his attention. His
countenance expressed fervour and the most de-
termined purpose. He exclaimed, " Strike the
tyrant ; strike him 1'* and immediately after, raising
himself, and addressing the assembly, he said,
" Domitian is no more ; the world is delivered of
its bitterest oppressor.**^ — The next post brought
the news that the emperor was killed at Rome,^
exactly on the day and at the hour when ApoUo-
nius had thus made known the event at Ephesus*.
Nerva succeeded Domitian, between whom and
ApoUonius there subsisted the sincerest fiiendship.
The prophet however did not long survive this
event. He was already nearly one hundred years
old. -But what is most extraordinary, no one could
tell precisely when or where he died. No tomb
bore the record of his memory; and his biogra-
^ Philostratus, Lib. VIII, c. 5. ' Ibid, c. 26.
APOLLONIUS OF TYANA. l6S
pher inclines to the opinion that he was taken up
into heaven\
Divine honours were paid to this philosopher,
both during his life, and after his death. The in-
habitants of Tyana built a temple to him, and his
image was to be found in many other temples ^
The emperor Adrian collected his letters, and
treated them as an invaluable relic. Alexander
Severus placed his statue in his oratory, together
with those of Jesus Christ, Abraham and Orpheus,
to whom he was accustomed daily to perform the
ceremonies of religion". Vopiscus, in his Life of
Aurelian", relates that this emperor had deter-
mined to rase the city of Tyana, but that ApoUo-
nius, whom he knew from his statues, appeared to
him, and said, ** Aurelian, if you would conquer,
do not think of the destruction of my citizens :
Aurelian, if you would reign, abstain from the
blood of the innocent: Aurelian, if you would
conquer, distinguish yourself by acts of clemency.*'
It was at the desire of Julia, the mother of Severus,
that Philostratus composed the life of ApoUonius,
to which he is now principally indebted for his
fame^
The publicity of ApoUonius and his miracles
has become considerably greater, from the circum-
stance of the early enemies of the Christian reli-
^ Philostratus, Lib. VIII, c. 29, 30. ^ Ibid, c. 29.
"> Lampridius, in Vita Alex. Severi, c. 29. " C, 24.
^ Philostratus, Lib. J, c. 3,
M 2
164
APULEIUS.
gion having instituted a comparison between the
miracles of Christ and of this celebrated philoso-
pher, for the obvious! purpose of undermining one
of the most considerable evidences of the truth of
divine revelation. It was probably with an in-
direct view of this sort ' that Philosttatus ^as in-
cited, by the empress Julia to compose his life of
this philosopher; and Hierocles, a writer of the
time of Dioclesian, appears to have penned an
express treatise in the way of a parallel between
the two, attempting to shew a decisive superiority
in the miracles of ApoUonius, .
APULEIUS.
< Apuleius of Madaura in Africa, who lived in
the time of the Antonines, appears to have been
more remarkable as an author, than for any thing
that occurs in the history of his life. St. August-
tine and Lactantius however have coupled him
with Apollonius of Tyana, as one of those who for
their pretended miracles were brought into com-
petition with the author of the Christian religion.
But this seems to have arisen from their misappre-
hension respecting his principal work, the Golden
Ass, which is a romance detailing certain won-
derful transformations, and which they appear to
have thought was intended as an actual history of
the life of the author.
The work however deserves to be cited in this
Alexander: the paphlagoniak. 165
place, a& giving a curious representation of the
ideas which were then prevalent on the subjects of
niagic and witchcraft. The author in the course
of his narrative says : " When the day b^gan to
dawn, I chanced to awake, and became desirous to
know and see some marvellous and strange things,
remembering that I was now in the midst of Thes-
saly^ where, by the common report of the world,
sorceries and enchantments are most frequent. I
viewed the sit^uation of the place in which I was ;
nor was there any thing I saw, that I believed to
be the same thing which it appeared. Insomuch
that the very: stones in the street I thought were
men bewitched and turned into that figure, and
the birds I heard chirping, the trees without the
walls,, and the running waters,, were changed from
human creatures into the appearances they wore.
I persuaded myself that the statues and buildings
could move, that the oxen and other brute beasts
could speak and tell strange tidings, and that I
should see and hear oracles from heaven, conveyed
on the beams of the sun/*
ALEXANDER THE PAPHLAGONIAN.
At the same time with Apuleius lived Alex-
ander the Paphlagonian, of whom so extraordinary
an account is transmitted to us by Lucian. He
was the native of an obscure town, called Abono-
tica, but was endowed with all that ingenuity and
166 ALEXANDER THE PAPHLAGONIAN.
cunning which enables men most eflTectually to
impose upon their fellow-creatures. He was tall
of stature, of an impressive aspect, a fair com-
plexion, eyes that sparkled with an awe-command-
ing fire as if informed by some divinity, and a
voice to the last degree powerful and melodious.
To these he added the graces of carriage and
attire. Being bom to none of the goods of for-
tune» he considered with himself how to turn these
advantages to the greatest account ; and the plan
he fixed upon was that of instituting an oracle en-
tirely under his own direction. He began at
Chalcedon on the Thracian Bosphorus ; but, con-
tinuing but a short time there, he used it princi-
pally as an opportunity for publishing that iEscu-
lapius, with Apollo, his father, would in no long
time fix his residence at Abonotica. This rumour
reached the fellow-citizens of the prophet, who
immediately began to lay the foundations of a
temple for the reception of the God. In due time
Alexander made his appearance ; and he so well
managed his scheme, that, by means of spies and
emissaries whom he scattered in all directions, he
not only collected applications to his prophetic
skill from the different towns of lonia^ Cilicia and
Galatia, but presently extended his fame to Italy
and Rome. For twenty years scarcely any oracle
of the known world could vie with that of Abono-
tica ; and the emperor Aurelius himself is said to
have relied for the success of a military expedition
ALEXANDER THE PAPHLAGONIAN. l67
Upon the predictions of Alexander the Paphla-
gooian.
Lucian gives, or pretends to give, an account
of the manner in which Alexander gained so ex-
traordinary a success. He says, that this young
man in his preliminary travels, coming to Pella in
Maced<Hi, found that the environs of this city were
distinguished from perhaps all other parts of the
world, by a breed of serpents of extraordinary size
and beauty. Our author adds that these serpents
were so tame, that they inhabited the houses of the
province, and slept in bed with the children. If
you trod upon them, they did not turn again, or
shew tokens of anger, and they sucked the breasts
of the women to whom it might be of service to
draw oiF their milk. Lucian says, it was probably
one of these serpents, that was found in the bed
of Olympias, and gave occasion to the tale that
Alexander the Great was begotten by Jupiter un-
der the form of a serpent. The prophet bought
the largest and finest serpent he could find, and
conveyed it secretly with him into Asia. When
he came to Abonotica, he found the temple that
was built surrounded with a moat; and he took
an opportunity privately of sinking a goose-egg,
which he had first emptied of its contents, in-
serting instead a young serpent just hatched, and
closing it again with great care. He then told his
fellow-citizens that the God was arrived, and
hastening to the moat, scooped up the egg in an
X&S ALEXANDER THE FAPHLAGONIAN.
egg-cup in presence of the whole assembly. He
next broke the shell, and shewed the youpg ser-
pent that twistedrabout his fingers in presence of
the admiring multitude.. After this he suffered
several days to elipse, and then, collecting crqwds
from.every part of Paphlagonia, he exhibited; him*
self, as he had previously announced he should dp,
with the fine serpent he had brought from Mace-
don twisted in coils about the prophet's neck, and
its head hid under his arm-pit, while a head artfully
formed with linen, and bearing some resemblance
to a human. face, protruded itself and passed for
the. head of the reptile. The spectators ^were be-
yond measure astonished to see a little embryo
serpent, grown in a few days to so magnificent a
size, and exhibiting the features of a human coun-
tenance. ;
Having thus far succeeded, Alexander did not
stop here. He contrived a pipe which passed
seemingly into the liiouth of the animal, while the
other, end terminated in an a4joining room, where
a man was placed unseen, and delivered the re-
plies which appeared to come from the mouth i)f
the serpent. This immediate communication with
the God was reserved for a few favoured suitors,
who bought at a high price the envied ^distinction.
The method with ordinary enquirers was for
them to communicate theu\ requests in writing,
which they were enjoined to roll up and carefully
seal ; and thes^ scrolls were returned to them in a
ALEXANDER THE PAPHLAGONIAN. l69
few days, with the seals apparently unbroken, but
with an answer written within, strikingly appro-
priate to the demand that was preferred. — It is
further to be observed, that the mouth of the ser-
pent was occasionally opened by means of a horse-
hair skilfully adjusted for the purpose, at the same
time that by similar means the animal darted out
its biforked tongue to the terror of the amazed by-
standers.
17i
REVOLUTION PRODUCED IN THE HISTORY OF
NECROMANCY AND WITCHCRAFT UPON THE
ESTABLISHMENT OF CHRISTIANITY.
It is^ necessary here to take notice of the great re-
volution that took place under Constantine, nearly
three hundred years after the death of Christ,
when Christianity became the established religion
of the Roman empire. This was a period which
produced a new era in the history of necromancy
and witchcraft. Under the reign of polytheism,
devotion was wholly unrestrained in every direc-
tion it might chance to assume. Gods known and
unknown, the spirits of departed heroes, the Gods
of heaven and hell, abstractions of virtue or vice,
might unblamed be made the objects of religious
worship. Witchcraft therefore, and the invoca-
tion of the spirits of the dead, might be practised
with toleration ; or at all events were not regarded
otherwise than as venial deviations from the reli-
gion of the state.
It is true, there must always have been a hor-
ror of secret arts, especially of such as were of a
maleficent nature. At all times men dreaded the
mysterious power of spells and incantations, of
potent herbs and nameless rites, which were able
to control the eternal order of the planets, and the
172 REVOLUTION IN -NECROMANCY.
voluntary operations of mind, which could ex-
tinguish or recal life, inflame the passions of the
soul, blast the works of creation, and extort from
invisible beings and the dead the secrets of futuri-
ty. But under the creed of the unity of the divine
nature the case was exceedingly different. Idol-
atry, and the worship of other Gods than one,
were held to be crimes worthy of the utmost ab-
horrence and the severest punishment. There was
no. medium between the worship of heaven and
hell. All adoration: was to be directed to God
the Creator through the mediation of his only be-
gotten Son ; or, if prayers were addressed to infe-
rior beings, and the glorified spirits of his saints,
at least they terminated in the Most High, were a
deprecation of his wrath, a soliciting his favour,
and a homage to his omnipotence. On the other
hand sorcery and witchcraft were sins of the
blackest dye. , In opposition to the one only God,
the creator of heaven and earth,^ was. the "prince
of darkness," the: "prince of the power of the
air,.*^ who contended perpetually against the Al-
mighty, and sought to seduce his creatures and
his subjects from their due allegiance. Sorcerers
^d witches were supposed tado homage and sell
themselves to the devil, than which it was not in
the mind of man to conceive a greater enormity,
or a crime more worthy to cause its perpetrators
to be exterminated from the face of the earth.
The thought of it was of power to cause the flesh
MAGICAL CONSULTATIONS. lyST
of man to creep and tingle with horror : and such
as were prone to indulge their imaginations to this
utmost extent of the terrible^ found a perverse de-
light in conceiving this depravity, and were but
too much disposed to fasten it upon their fellow-
creatures.
MAGICAL CONSULTATIONS RESPECTING THE
LIFE OF THE EMPEROR.
It was not within the range of possibility, that
such a change should take place in the established
religion of the empire as that from Paganism. to
Christianity, without convulsions and vehemient
struggle. The prejudices of mankind on a subject
so nearly concerned with their dearest interests
and affections must inevitably be powerful and ob-
stinate; and the lucre of the priesthood, together
with the strong hold they must necessarily have
had on the "weakness and superstition of their
flocks, would tend to give force and perpetuity
to the contention. Julian, a man of great ability
and unquestionable patriotism, succeeded to the
fempire only twenty-four years after the death of
Constantine ; and he employed the most vigorous
measures for the restoration of the ancient religion.
But the reign of Julian was scarcely more than
eighteen months in duration : and that of Joviany
his successor, who again unfurled the standard of
Christianity, lasted hardly more than half a year^
174 MAGICAL CONSULTATIONS,
The state of things bore a striking similarity to
that of England at the time of the Protestant Re-
formation, where the opposite faiths of Edward
the Sixth and his sister Mary, and the shortness
of their reigns, gave preternatural keenness to
the feelings of the parties, and instigated them ta
hang with the most restless anticipation upon the
chances of the demise of the sovereign, and the con-
sequences, favourable or unfavourable, that might
arise from a new accession.
The joint reign of Valentitiian and Valens,
Christian emperors, had now lasted several years,
when information was conveyed to these princes,
and particularly to the latter, who had the rule of
Asia, that numerous private consultations were
held, as to the duration of their authority, and
the person of the individual who should come after
them. The succession of the Roman empire was
elective ; and consequently there was almost an
unlimited scope for conjecture in this question.
Among the various modes of enquiry that were
employed we are told, that the twenty-four letters
of the alphabet were artificially disposed in a
circle, and that a magic ring, being suspended
over the centre, was conceived to point to the ini-
tial letters of the name of him who should be
the future emperor. Theodorus, a man of most
eminent qualifications, and high popularity, was
put to death by the jealousy of Valens, on the
vague evidence that this kind of trial had in-
MAGICAL CONSULTATIONS. 175
dicated the early letters of his name*. It may
easily be imagined, that, where so restless and
secret an investigation was employed as to the
successor that fate might provide, conspiracy would
not always be absent. Charges of this sort were
perpetually multiplied ; informers were eager to
obtain favour or rewards by the disclosures they
pretended to communicate; and the Christians,
who swayed the sceptre of the state, did not fail
to aggravate the guilt of those who had recourse
to these means for" satisfying their curiosity, by
alleging that demons were called up from hell to
aid in the magic solution. The historians of these
times no doubt greatly exaggerate the terror and
the danger, when they say, that the persons appre-
hended on such charges in the great cities out-
numbered the peaceable citizens who were left un-
suspected, and that the military who had charge
of the prisoners, complained that they were wholly
without the power to restrain the flight of the cap-
tives, or to control the multitude of partisans who
insisted on their immediate release^. The punish-
ments were barbarous and indiscriminate; to be
accused was almost the same thing as to be con-
victed ; and those were obliged to hold themselves
fortunate, who escaped with a fine that in a man-
ner swallowed up their estates.
* Zosimus, Lib. IV, cap. 13. Gibbon observes, tbat the
name of Theodosius, who actually succeeded, begins with the
same letters which were indicated in this magic trial.
^ Zosimus, Lib. IV, cap. 14.
I
177
HISTORY OF NECROMANCY IN THE EAST. .
From the countries best known in what is usu-
ally styled ancient history, in other words from
Greece and Rome, and the regions into which the
spirit of conquest led the people of Rome and
Greece, it is time we should turn to the East, and
those remoter divisions of the world, which to
them were comparatively unknown.
With what has been called the religion of the
Magi, of Egypt, Persia and Chaldea, they were
indeed superficially acquainted ; but for a more
familiar and accurate* knowledge of the East we
are chiefly indebted to certain events of modern
history ; to the conquests of the Saracens, when
they possessed themselves of the North of Africa,
made themselves masters of Spain, and threatened
in their victorious career to subject France to their
standard ; to the crusades ; to the spirit of nauti-
cal discovery which broke put in the close of the
fifteenth century; and more recently to the exten-
sive conquests and mighty augmentation of terri-
tory which have been realised by the English East
India Company.'
The religion of Persia was that of Zoroaster
and the Magi. When Ardshir, or Artaxerxes, the
founder of the race of the Sassanides, restored the
N
178 NECROMANCY IN THE EAST.
throne of Persia in the year of Christ 226, he
called together an assembly of the Magi from all
parts of his dominions, and they are said to have
met to the number of eighty thousand*. These
priests, from a remote antiquity, had to a great
degree preserved their popularity, and had re-
markably adhered to their ancient institutions.
They seem at all times to have laid claim to the
power of suspending the course of nature, and
producing miraculous phenomena. But in so nu-
merous a body there must have been some whose
pretensions were of a more moderate nature, and
others who displayed a loftier aspiration. The
more ambitious we find designated in their native
language by the name of Jogees^^ of the same sig-
nification as the JudAmjuncti.
Their notions of the Supreme Being are said to
have been of the highest and abstrusest character,
as comprehending every possible perfection of
power, wisdom and goodness, as purely spiritual
in his essence, and incapable of the smallest vari-
ation and change, the same yesterday, to-day, and
for ever. Such as they apprehended him to be,
such the most perfect of their priests aspired to
make themselves. They were to put off all human
weakness and frailty ; and, in proportion as they
assimilated^ or rather became one with the Deity,
they supposed themselves to partake of his attri-
butes, to become infinitely wise and powerful and
* Gibbon, Chap. VIII. ^ This word is of Sanscrit original.
NECROMANCY IN THE EAST. 179
good. H^fce their claim to suspend the course
of nature, and to produce miraculous phenomena.
For this purpose it was necessary that they should
abstract themselves from every thing mortal, have
no human passions or partialities, and divest them-
selves as much as possible of all the wants and de-
mands of our material frame. Zoroaster appears
indeed to have preferred morality to devotion, to
have condemned celibacy and fasting, and to have
pronounced, that " he who sows the ground with
diligence and care, acquires a greater stock of reli-
gious merit than he who should repeat ten thou-
sand prayers.'* But his followers at least did not
^bide by this decision. They found it more prac-
ticable to secure to themselves an elevated repu-
tation by severe observances, rigid self-denial, and
the practice of the most inconceivable mortifica-
tions. This excited wonder and reverence and a
sort of worship from the bystander, which indus-
try and benevolence do not so assuredly secure.
They therefore in frequent instances lacerated
their flesh, and submitted to incredible hardships.
They scourged themselves without mercy, wound-
ed their bodies with lancets and nails% and con-
demned themselves to remain for days and years
unmoved in the most painful attitudes. It was no
unprecedented thing for them to take their station
upon the top of a high pillar ; and some are said
* " They cut themselves with knives and lancets, till the
blood gushed out upon them/* 1 Kings, xviii, 28.
.n2
180 NECROMANCY IN THE EAST/
to have continued in this position, without ever
coming down from it, for thirty years, : The more
they trampled under foot the universal instincts
of our nature, and shewed themselves superior,
to its infirmities, the nearer they approached to
the divine essence, and to the becoming one with
the Omnipresent.. They were of consequence the
more sinless and perfect ; their will became the
will of the. Deity, and, they were in a sense in-
vested, with, and became the mediums of the acts
of, his power. The result of all this is, that they
who exercised the art.of magic in its genuine and
unadulterated form, at all times applied it to pur-
poses of goodness and benevolence, and that their
interference was uniformly the $ignal of some un-
equivocal benefit, either to mankind in general, or
tQ those individuals of mankind . who were best
entitled to their aid. It was theirs to. succour
virtue in distress, and to interpose the divine as-
sistance in cases that most loudly and unquestion-
ably called for it. .
, Such, we are told, was the character of the pure
and primitive magic, as it was handed down from
the. founder of their religion. It was called into
action by the Jpgees, men who, by an extraordir
nary merit of Whatever, sort, had in a, certain sense
rendered themselves one with the Deity. But the
exercise of magical power was too tempting an eur
dowment, not in some cases to be liable to abuse.
Even as we read of the angels in heaven, that not
NECROMANCY IN THE EAST/ 181
^11 of them stood, and persevered in their original
isinlessness and integrity, so of the. Jogees some,
partaking of the divine power, were also under the
direction of a will celestial and divine, while others,
having derived, we must suppose, a mighty and
miraculous power from the gift of God, after-
wards abused it by applying it to capricious, or, as
it should seem, to malignant purposes. This ap-
pears to have been every where essential to the
history of: magic. If those who were supposed to
possess it in its widest extent and most astonish-
ing degree, had uniformly employed it only in be-
half of justice and virtue, they would indeed have
been regarded as benefactors, and been entitled to
the reverence and love of mankind. But the
human mind is always prone to delight in the
terrible. No sooner did men entertain the idea
of what was supernatural and unconfrolable, than
they began to fear it and to deprecate its hostility.
They apprehended they knew not what, of the
dead returning to lifej of invisible beings armed
with the power and intention of executing mis-
chief, . and of human creatures endowed with the
prerogative of : bringing down pestilence and
slaughter, of dispensing wealth and poverty, pros-
perity and calamity at their. pleastMee, of causing
health and life to waste away by insensible, biit
sure degrees, of producing lingering torments, an:d
death in its most fearful form. . Accordingly it
appears that, as. there were certain magicians who
182 NECROMANCY IN THE EAST.
•
were as Gods dispensing benefits to those who
best deserved it, so there were others, whose
only principle of action was caprice, and again3t
whose malice no innocence and no degree of
virtue would prove a defence. As the former sort
of magicians were styled JogeeSj and were held to
be the deputies and instruments of infinite good-
ness, so the other sort were named Kw-JogeeSj that
is, persons who possessing the same species of as-
cendancy over the powers of nature, employed it
only in deeds of malice and wickedness.
In the mean time these magicians appear to have
produced the wonderful effects which drew to
them the reverence of the vulgar, very frequently
by the intervention of certain beings of a nature
superior to the human, who should seem, though
ordinarily invisible, to have had the faculty of
rendering themselves visible when they thought
proper, and assuming what shape they pleased.
These are principally known by the names of
Peris, Dives **, and Gins, or Genii. Richardson,
in the preface to his Persian Dictionary, from
which our account will principally be taken, refers
us to what he calls a romance, but from which he
appears to derive the outline of his Persian my-
thology. In this romance Kahraman, a mortal, is
introduced in conversation with Simurgh, a crea-
ture partaking of the nature of a bird and a griffon,
who reveals to him the secrets of the past history
** Otherwise, Deeves.
NECROMANCY IN THE EAST. 183
of the earth. She tells him that she has lived to
see the world seven times peopled with inhabit-
ants of so many different natures, and seven times
depopulated, the former inhabitants having been
so often removed, and giving place to their suc-
cessors. The beings who occupied the earth pre-
viously to man, were distinguished into the Peris
and the Dives ; and, when they no longer possessed
the earth in chief, they were, as it should seem,
still permitted, in an airy and unsubstantial form,
and for the most part invisibly, to interfere in the
aflairs of the human race. These beings ruled the
earth during seventy-two generations. The last
monarch, named Jan bin Jan, conducted himself
so ill, that God sent the. angel Haris to chastise
him. Haris however became intoxicated with
power, and employed his prerogative in the most
reprehensible manner. God therefore at length
created Adam, the first of men, crowning him
with glory and honour, and giving him dominion
over all other earthly beings. He commanded the
angels to obey him ; but Haris refused, and the
Dives followed his example. The rebels were for
the most part sent to hell for their contumacy;
but a part of the Dives, whose disobedience had
been less flagrant, were reserved, and allowed for
a certain term to walk the earth, and by their
temptations to put the virtue and constancy of
man to trial. Henceforth the human race was
secretly surrounded by invisible beings of two
184 NECROMANCY IN THK EAST.
species, the Peris, who were friendly to* man, anjd
the Dives, who exercised their ingenuity in in-
volving them in error and guilt. The Peris were
beautiful and benevolent, but imperfect and of-
fending beings ; they are supposed to have borne
a considerable resemblance to the Fairies, of the
western world. The Dives were hideous in form,
and of a malignant disposition. The Peris subsist
wholly on perfumes, which the Dives, being of a
grosser nature, hold in abhorrence. This mytho-
logy is said to have been unknown in Arabia tiU
long after Mahomet : the only invisible beings we
read of in their early traditions are the Gins,
which term, though now used for the most part
as synonimous with Dives, originally signified
nothing more than certain infernal fiends of stupen-
dous power, whose agency was hostile to m^.
There was perpetual war between the Peris and
the Dives, whose proper habitation was Kaf, or
Caucasus, a line of mountains which was supposed
to reach round the globe. In these wars the Peris
generally came off with the worst; and in that
case they are represented in the traditional tales of
the East, as applying to some gallant and heroic
mortal to reinforce their exertions. The warriors
who figure in these narratives appear all to have
been ancient Persian kings. Tahmuras, one of the
most celebrated of them, is spoken of as mounting
upon Simuj-gh, surrounded with talismans and en-
chanted aimour, and furnished with a sword the
SILENCE RESPECTING EASTERN NECROMANCERS. 185
dint of which nothing could resist. He proceeds
to Kaf, or Ginnistah, and defeats Arzshank, the
chief of the Dives, but is defeated in turn by a
more formidable competitor. The war appears to
be carried on for successive ages with alternate
advantage and disadvantage, till after the lapse of
centuries Rustan kills Arzshank, and finally re-
duces the Dives to a subject and tributary condi-
tion. In all this there is a great resemblance to
the fables of Scandinavia ; and the Northern and
the Eastern world seem emulously to have con-
tributed their quota of chivalry and romance, of
heroic achievements and miraculous events, of
monsters and dragons, of amulets and enchant-
ment, and all those incidents which most rouse the
imagination, and are calculated to instil into gene-
rous and enterprising youth a courage the most
undaunted and invincible.
GENERAL SILENCE OF THE EAST RESPECTING
INDIVIDUAL NECROMANCERS.
Asia has been more notorious than perhaps any
other division of the globe for the vast multiplicity
and variety of its narratives of sorcery and magic.
I have however been much disappointed in the
thing I looked for in the first place, and that is, in
the individual adventures of such persons as might
be supposed to have gained a high degree of credit
and reputation for their skill in exploits of magic.
Where the professors are many (and they have
186 SILENCE RESPECTING EASTERN NECROMANCERS.
been perhaps no where so numerous as those of
magic in the East), it is unavoidable but that some
should have been more dextrous than others, more
eminently gifted by nature, more enthusiastic and
persevering in the prosecution of their purpose,
and more fortunate in awakening popularity and
admiration among their contemporaries. In the
instances of ApoUonius Tyanaeus and others
among the ancients, and of Cornelius Agrippa,
Roger Bacon and Faust among the moderns, we
are acqusunted with many biographical particulars
of their lives, and can trace with some degree of
accuracy, their peculiarities of disposition, and ob-
serve how they were led gradually from one study
and one mode of action to another. But the magi-
<;ians of the East, so to speak, are mere abstractions,
not characterised by any of those habits which
distinguish one individual of the human race from
another, and having those marking traits and petty
lineaments which make the person, as it were, start
up into life while he passes before our eyes. They
are merely reported to us as men prone to the
producing great signs and wonders, and nothing
more.
Two of the most remarkable exceptions that I
have found to this rule, occur in the examples
of Rocail, and of Hakem, otherwise called Mo-
canna.
ROC AIL. 187
ROCAIL.
The first of these however is scarcely to be
called an exception, as lying beyond the limits of
all credible history. Rocail is said to have been
the younger brother of Seth, the son of Adam.
A Dive, or giant of mount Caucasus, being hard
pressed by his enemies, sought as usual among the
sons of men fbv aid that might extricate him out
of his difficulties. He at length made an alliance
with Rocail, by whMe assistance he arrived at the
tranquillity he desired, and who in consequence
became his grand vizier, or prime minister. He
governed the dominions of his principal for many
years with great honour and success j but, ulti-
mately perceiving the approaches of old age and
death, he conceived a desire to leave behind him
a monument worthy of his achievements in policy
and war. He according erected, we are not told
by what means, a magnificent palace, and a se-
pulchre equally worthy of admiration. But what
was most entitled to notice, he peopled this palace
with statues of so extraordinary a quality, that
they moved and performed aQ the functions and
ofiices of living men, so that every one who beheld
them would have believed that they were actually
informed with souls, whereas in reality all they did
was by the power of magic, in consequence of
which, though they were in fact no more than in^
animate matter, they were enabled to obey the
188 HAKEM, OTHERWISE MOCANNA.
behests, and perform the wiH^ of the persons by
whom they were visited***.
HAKEM, OTHERWISE MOCANNA.
. Hakem was a leader in one of the different divi-
sions of the followers of Mahomet. To inspire the
greater awe into the minds of his supporters, he
pretended that he was the Most High God, the
creator of heaven and earth, under one of the
different forms by which he has in successive ages
become incarnate, and made himself manifest to
his creatures. He distinguished himself by the
peculiarity of always wearing a thick and imper-
vious veil, by which, according to his followers,
he covered the dazzling splendour of his counte-
nance, which was so great that ao mortal could
behold it and live, but that, according to his ene-
mies, only served to conceal the hideousness of his
features, too monstrously deformed to be contem-
plated without horror. One of his miracles, which
seems the most to have been insisted on, was that
he nightly^ for a considerable space of time, caused
an orb, something like the moon, to rise from a
sacred well, which gave a light scarcely less splen-
did than the day, that diffused its beams for miany
miles around. His followers were enthusiastically
devoted to his service, and he supported his au-
thority unquestioned for a number, of years. At
» D'Herbelot, Bibliotheque Orientale.
ARABIAN nights' ENTEHTAINMENTS. 189
length a more formidable opponent s^peared, and
after several battles he became obliged to shut
himself Up in a strong fortress. Here however he
was so jstraitly besieged as to he driven to the last
despair, and, having administered poison to his
whole ^mrispn, he preparied a bath of the most
powerfiil. ingredients,, which, when he threw him-
self into it, dissolved his frame, even to the very,
bones, so that nothing remained of him but a lock
of his hair. He acted thus, with the hope that it
would be believed that he was miraculously taken
up into heaven ; nor did this fail to be the effect
on the great body of his adherents\
>
ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS.
The most Pippious record of stories of Asiatic
enchantmejit . that we possess, is contained in the
Arabian Nights' Entertainments i to. which we may
add the Persian Tales, and a few other repositories
of Oriental adyentu;i:es. It is true that these are de-
livered to us in a garbof fiction ; but they are known
to present so exact a picture of Eastern manners and
customs, and so just a delineation of the follies, the
weajknes^es and credulity of the races of men that
figpre in them, that, in. the absence of materials of a
stricdy hiiStorical sort of which we have to complain;
they may not inadequately supply the place, and
may farnish^ us with .a pretty fiill representation of
I , . •* D'Herbelot, $ibliotheque Orientale.
190 ARABIAN NIGHTS* ENTERTAINMENTS.
the ideas of sorcery and magic which for centuries
were entertained in. this part of the world. They
have indeed one obvious defect, which it is proper
the reader should keep constantly in mind. The
mythology and groundwork of the whole is Per-
sian : but the narrator is for the most part a Ma-
hometan. Of consequence the ancient Fire-wor-
shippers, though they contribute the entire mate-
rials, and are therefore solely entitled to our
gratitude and deference for the abundant supply
they have furnished to our curiosity, are uni-
formly treated in these books with disdain and
contumely as unworthy of toleration, while the
comparative upstart race of the believers in the
Koran are held out to us as the only enlightened
and upright among the sons of men.
Many of the matters most currently related
among these supernatural phenomena, are tales of
transformation. A lady has two sisters erf the most
profligate and unprincipled character. They have
originally the same share of the paternal inherit-
ance as herself. But they waste it in profusion and
folly, while she improves her portion by good judg-
ment and frugality. Driven to the extremity of dis-
tress, they humble themselves, and apply to her for
assistance. She generously imparts to them the
same amount of wealth that they originally pos-
sessed, and they are once more reduced to poverty.
This happens again and again. At length, finding
them incapable of discretion, she prevails on them
ARABIAN nights' ENTERTAINMENTS. IQl
to come and live with her. By wearisome and
ceaseless importunity they induce her to embark
in a mercantile enterprise. Here she meets with
a prince, who had the misfortune to be bom in a
region of fire-worshippers, but was providentially
educated by a Mahometan nurse. Hence, when
his countrymen were by divine vengeance all
turned into stones, he alone was saved alive. The
lady finds him in this situation, endowed with
sense and motion amidst a petrified city, and they
immediately fell in love with each other. She
brings him away from this melancholy scene, and
together they go on board the vessel which had
been freighted by herself and her sisters. But the
sisters become envious of her good fortune, and
conspire, while she and the prince are asleep, to
throw them overboard. The prince is drowned ;
but the lady with great difficulty escapes. She
finds herself in a desert island, not far from the
place where she had originally embarked on her
adventure ; and, having slept off the fatigues she
had encountered, beholds on her awaking a black
woman with an agreeable countenance, a fairy,
who leads in her hand two black Wtehes coupled
together with a cord. These black bitches are the
lady's sisters, thus metamorphdsed, as a punishment
for their ingratitude and cruelty. The fiiiry con-
veys her through the air to her own house in Bag-
dad, which she finds well stored with all sorts of
commodities, and ctelivers to her the two animals.
192 ARABIAN nights' ENTERTAINMENTS.
with an injunction that she is to whip them every
day at a. certain hour as a further retribution for
their crimes. This was accordingly punctually
performed ; and, at the end of each day's penance,
the lady, having before paid no regard to the ani-
mals* gestures and pitiable cries, wqpt over them,
took them in her arms, kissed them, and carefully
wiped the moisture from their eyes. Having per-
severed for a length of time in this discipline, the
offenders are finally, by a counter- incantation, re-
stored to their original forms, being by the seve-
rities they had suffered entirely cured of the vices
which had occasioned their calamitous condition.
Another story is of a calender, a sort of Maho-
metan monk, with one eye, who had originally,
been a prince. He had contracted a taste for
navigation and naval discoveries;- and, in one
of his voyages, having been driven by stress of
weather into unknown seas, he suddenly finds^
himself attracted towards a vast mountain of load-
stone, which first, by virtue of the iron and nails
in the ship, draws the vessel towards itself, and
then, by its own intrinsic fierce, extracts the nails,
so that the ship tumbles to pieces, and every
one on board is drowned. The mountain, on
the side towards the sea, is all. covered with,
nails, which had been drawn from vessels that
previously suffered the same calamity ; and these
nails at once preserve and augment the fatal power
of the mountain. The prince only; escapes ; and
ARABIAN NIGHTS* ENTERTAINMENTS. 193
he finds himself in a desolate island, with a dome
of brass, supported by brazen pillars, and on the
top of it a horse of brass, and a rider of the s^me
m^taL This rider the prince is fated to throw
down, by means of an enchanted arrow, and thus
to dissolve the charm which had been fatal to
thousands. From the desolate island he embarked
on board a boat, with a single rower, a man of
metal, and would have been safely conveyed to
his native country, had he not inadvertently
pronounced the name of God, that he had been
warned not to do, and which injunction he had
observed many days. On this the boat imme-
diately sunk J but the prince was preserved, who
comes into a desolate island, where he finds but
one inhabitant, a youth of fifteen. This youth is
hid in a cavern, it having been predicted of him
that he should be killed after fifty days, by the
man that threw down the horse of brass and his
rider. A great friendship is struck up between
the unsuspecting youth and the prince, who never«
theless ftilfils the prediction, having by a pure
accident killed the youth on the fiftieth day. He
next arrives at a province of the main land, where
he visits a castle, inhabited by ten very agreeable
young men, each blind of the right eye. He
dwells with them for a month, and finds, after a
day of pleasant entertainment, that each evening
they do penance in squalidness and ashes. His
curiosity is greatly excited to obtain an explana-
194 ARABIAN Nir.HTS' ENTERTAINMENTS.
tion of what he saw, but this they refuse, telling
him at the same time, that he may, if he pleases,
pass through the same adventure as they have
done, and, if he does, wishing it may be attended
with a more favourable issue. He determines to
make the experiment j and by their direction,
after certain preparations, is flown away with
through the air by a roc, a stupendous bird, that
is capable in the same manner of carrying off an
elephant. By this means he is brought to a castle
of the most extraordinary magnificence, inhabited
by forty ladies of exquisite beauty. With these
ladies he lives for eleven months in a perpetual
succession of delights. But in the twelfth month
they tell him, that they are obliged to leave him till
the commencement of the new year. In the mean*
time they give him for his amusement the keys of
one hundred apartments, all but one of which he
is permitted to open. He is delighted with the
wonders of these apartments till the last day. On
that day he opens the forbidden room, where the
rarity that most strikes him is a black horse of ad-
mirable shape and appearance, with a saddle and
bridle of gold. He leads this horse into the open
air, and is tempted to mount him. The horse first
stands still; but at length, being touched with a
switch, spreads a pair of wings which the prince
had not before perceived,^ and mounts to an amazing
height in the air. The horse finally descends on the
terrace of a castle, where he throws his rider, and
PERSIAN TALES. 195
leaves him, having first dashed out his right eye
with a sudden swing of his tail. The prince goes
down into the castle, and to his surprise finds him-
self in company with the ten young men, blind of
one eye, who had^ passed through the same ad-
venture as he had done, and all been betrayed
by means of the same infirmity.
PERSIAN TALES.
These two stories are from the Arabian Nights :
the two following are from the Persian Tales. —
Fadlallah, king of Mousel, contracted an intimacy
with a young dervise, a species of Turkish friar, who
makes a vow of perpetual poverty. The dervise,
to ingratiate himself the more with the prince, in-
formed him of a secret he possessed, by means of a
certain incantation, of projecting his soul into the
body of any dead animal he thought proper.
To convince the king that this power was no
empty boast, he ofiered to quit his own body, and
animate that of a doe, which Fadlallah had just
killed in hunting. He accordingly executed what
he proposed, took possession of the body of the
doe, displayed tbe most surprising agility, ap-
proached the king, fawning on him with every
expression of endearment, and then, after various
bounds, deserting the limbs of the animal, and re-
possessing his own frame, which during the expe-
riment had lain breathless on the ground; Fad-
o 2
196 PERSIAN TALE5.
lallah became earnest to possess the secret of the
dervise ; and, after isome demurs, it was commu-
nicated to him. The king took possession of the
body of the doe ; but his treacherous confident no
sooner saw the limbs of Fadlallah stretched senseless
on the ground, than he conveyed his own spirit into
them, and, bending his bow, sought to d^troy the
life of his defenceless victim. The king by his agility
escaped j and the dervise, resorting to the palace,
took possession of the throne, and of the bed of
the queen, Zemroude, with whom Fadlallah was
desperately enamoured. The first precaution of
the usurper was to issue a decree that all the deer
within his dominions should be killed, hoping by
this means to destroy the rightful sovereign. But
the king, aware of his danger, had deserted the body
of the doe, and entered that of a dead nightingale
that lay in his path. In this disguise he hastened
to the palace, and placed himself in a wide-spread^
ing tree, which grew immediately before the apart-
ment of Zemroude. Here he poured out his com*-
plaints and ihe grief that penetrated his soul in
such melodious not^, as did not fail to attract the
attention (tf the queen. She sent out her bird-
catchers to make captive the little warbler 9 and Fad-
lalldi, who desired no better, easily suffered him*
self to be made their prisoner. In this new position
he demonstrated by every gesture of fcMidness his
partiality to the queen ; but if any (rf her women
approached him, he pecked at them in ang^, and.
PERSIAN TALES. 197
when the impostor made his appearance, could
not contain the vehemence of his rage. It hap-
pened one night that the queen's lap-dog diedj
and the thought struck Fadlallah that he would
animate the corpse of this animal. The next
morning Zemroude found her favourite bird dead
in his cage, and immediately became inconsolable.
Never, she said, was so amiable a bird ; he dis«
tinguished her from all others ; he seemed even to
entertain a passion for her ; and she felt as if she
could not survive his loss. The dervise in vain
tried every expedient to console her. At length
he said, that, if she pleased, he would cause her
nightingale to revive every morning, and entertain
her with his tunes as long as she thought proper.
The dervise accordingly laid himself on a sopha,
and by means of certain cabalistic words, trans-
ported his soul into the body of the nightingale,
and began to sing. Fadlall^ watched his time ;
he lay in a comer of the room unobserved ; but
no sooner had the dervise deserted his body, than
the king proceeded to take possession of it. The
first thing he did was to hasten to the cage, to
open the door with uncontrolable impatience, and,
seizing the bird, to twist off its head. Zemroude,
amazed, asked him what he meant by so inhuman
an action. Fadlallah in reply related to her all the
circumstances that had befallen him ; and the
queen became so struck with agony and remorse
that she had suffered her person, however inno-
198 PERSIAN TALES.
cently, to be polluted by so vile an impostor, that
she could not get over the recollection, but pined
away and died from a sense of the degradation she
bad endured.
But a much more perplexing and astounding
instance of transformation occurs in the history of
the Young King of Thibet and the Princess of the
Naimans. The sorcerers in this case are repre-
sented as, without any intermediate circumstance
to facilitate their witchcraft, having the ability to
assume the form of any one they please, and in
consequence to take the shape of one actually pre-
sent, producing a duplication the most confound-
ing that can be imagined* — Mocbel, the son of an
artificer of Damascus, but whose father had be-
queathed him considerable wealth, contrived to
waste his patrimony and his youth together in
profligate living with Dilnouaze, a woman of dis-
solute manners. Finding themselves at once poor
and despised, they had recourse to the sage Bedra,
the most accomplished magician of the desert, and
found means to obtain her favour. In conse-
quence she presented them with two rings, which
had the power of enabling them to assume the
likeness of any man or woman they please. Thus
equipped, Mocbel heard of the death of Mouaffack^
prince of the Naimans, who was supposed to have
been slain in a battle, and whose body had never
been found. The niece of Mouaffack now filled
the throne ; and under these circumstances Mocbel
PERSIAN TALES. 199
conceived the design of personating the absent
Mouaffack, exciting a rebellion among his coun-
trymen, and taking possession of the throne. In
this project he succeeded ; and the princess driven
into exile, took refuge in the capital of Thibet.
Here the king saw her, fell in love with her, and
espoused her. Being made acquainted with her
history, he resolved to re-conquer her dominions,
and sent a defiance to the usurper. Mocbel, ter-
rified at the thought pf so formidable an invader,
first pretended to die, and then, with Dilnouaze,
who during his brief reign had under the form of
a beautiful woman personated his queen, pro-
ceeded in his original form to the capital of Thi-
bet. Here his purpose was to interrupt the hap-
piness of those who had disturbed him in his de-
ceitful career. Accordingly one night, when the
queen, previously to proceeding to her repose, had
shut herself up in her closet to read certain pas-
sages of the Alcoran, Dilnouaze, assuming her
form with the minutest exactness, hastened to
place herself in the royal bed by the side of the
king. After a time, the queen shut her book, and
went along the gallery to the king^s bedchamber.
Mocbel watched his time, and placed himself, un-
der the form of a frightful apparition, directly in
the queen's path. She started at the sight, and
uttered a piercing shriek. The king recognised
her voice, and hastened to se,e what had hap-
pened to her. She explained; but the king
200 PERSIAN TALES.
Spoke of something much more extraordinary,
and disked her how it could possibly happen
that she should be in the gallery, at the same mo-
ment that he had left her, undressed and in bed.
They proceeded to the chamber to unravel the
mystery. Here a contention occurred between
the real and the seeming queen, each charging
the other with imposture. The king turned
from one to the other, and was unable to decide
between their pretensions. The courtiers and
the ladies of the bedchamber were called, and
all were perplexed with uncertainty and doubt.
At length they determine in fitvour of the false
queen. It was then proposed that the other should
be burned for a sorceress. The king however
forbade this. He was not yet altogether de-
cided; and could not resolve to consign his true
queen, as it might possibly be, to a cruel deatli.
He was therefore content to strip her of her royal
robes, to clothe her in rags, and thrust her igno-
miniously from his palace.
Treachery however was not destined to be ulti-
mately triumphant. The king one day rode out a
hunting; and Mocbel, that he might the better
deceive the guards of the palace, seizing the op-
portunity, assumed his figure, and went to bed to
Dilnouaze. The king meanwhile recollected some-
thing of importance, that he had forgotten before
he went out to hunt, and returning upon his st^,
proceeded to the royal chamber. Here to his
STORY OF A GOULE. 'SOI
utter confusion he found a man in bed with his
queen, and that man to his greater astonishment
the exact counterpart of himself. Furious at the
sight) he immediately drew his scyroetar. The
man contrived to escape down the backstairs. The
womaii however remained in bed ; and, stretching
out her hands tointreat for mercy, the king struck
off the hand which had the ring on it, and she im-
mediately appeared, as she really was, a frightful
hag. She begged for life; and, that she might
mollify his rage, explained the mystery, told him
that it was by means of a ring that she effected the
delusion, and that by a similar enchantment her
paramour had assumed the likeness of the king.
The king meaiiwhile was inexorable, and struck off
her head* He next turned in pursuit of the adul-
terer. Mocbel however had had time to mount
on horseback. But the king mounted also ; and,
being the better horseman, in a short time over-
took his foe. The impostor did not dare to cope
with him, but asked his life ; and the king, consi-
dering him as the least offender of the two, par-
doned him upon condition of his surrendering the
ring, in consequence of which he passed the re-
mainder of his life in poverty and decrepitude.
STORY OF A GOULE.
A «tory in the Arabian Nights, which merits no-
tice for its singularity, and as exhibiting a p£ui:icular
202 STORY OF A GOULE.
example of the credulity of the people of the East,
is that of a man who married a sorceress, without
being in any way conscious of her character in that
respect. She was sufficiently agreeable in her per-
son, and he found for the most part no reason to
be dissatisfied with her. But he became uneasy
at the strangeness of her behaviour, whenever they
sat together at meals. The husband provided a
sufficient variety of dishes, and was anxious that
his wife should eat and be refreshed. But she
took scarcely any nourishment. He set before her
a plate of rice. From this plate she took some-
what, grain by grain ; but she would taste of no
other dish. The husband remonstrated with her
upon her way of eating, but to no purpose ; she
still went on the same. He knew it was impossible
for any one to subsist upon so little as she ate ;
and his curiosity was roused. One night,. as he
lay quietly awake, he perceived his wife rise very
softly, and put on her clothes. He watched, but
made as if he saw nothing. Presently she opened
the door, and went out. He followed her unper-
ceived, by moonlight, and tracked her into a place
pf graves. Here to his astonishment he saw her
joined by a Goule, a sort of wandering demon,
which is known to infest ruinous buildings, and
from time ito time suddenly rushes out, seizes
children and other defenceless people, strangles,
and devours them. Occasionally, for want of
other food, this detested race will resort to church-
ARABIAN NIGHTS. 203
yards, and, digging up the bodies of the newly-
buried, gorge their appetites upon the flesh of
these. The husband followed his wife and her
supernatural companion, and watched their pro-
ceedings. He saw them digging in a new-made
grave. They extracted the body of the deceased ;
and, the Goule cutting it up joint by joint, they
feasted voraciously, and, having satisfied their ap-
petites, cast the remainder into the grave again,
and covered it up as before. The husband now
withdrew unobserved to his bed, and the wife fol-
lowed presently after. He however conceived a
horrible loathing of such a wife ; and she discovers
that he is acquainted with her dreadful secret*
They can no longer live together ; and a metamor-
phosis followed. She turned him into a dog, which
by ill usage she drove from her door j and he, aided
by a benevolent sorceress, first recovers his natural
shape, and then, having changed her into a mare,
by perpetual hard usage and ill treatment vents
his detestation of the character he had discovered
in her.
, ARABIAN NIGHTS.
A compilation of more vigorous imagination and
more exhaustless variety than the Arabian Nights,
perhaps never existed. Almost every thing that
can be conceived of marvellous and terrific is
there to be found. When we should apprehend
204 RESEMBLANCE OF THE TALES OF
the author or authors to have come to an end of
the rich vein in which they expatiate, still new
wonders are presented to us in endless succession*
Their power of comic exhibition is not less extra.^
ordinary than their power of surprising and terri^
fying. The splendour of their painting is endless ;
and the mind of the reader is roused and refreshed
by shapes and colours for ever new.
RESEMBLANCE OF THE TALES OF THE EAST ANp
OF EUROPE.
It is characteristic of this work to exhibit a
faithful and particular picture of Eastern manners,
customs, and modes of thinking and acting. And
yet, now and then, it is curious to observe the co^
incidence of Oriental imagination with that of an-
tiquity and of the North of Europe, so that it is
difficult to conceive the one not to be copied from
the other. Perhaps it was so ; and perhaps not.
Man is every where man, possessed of the same
faculties, stimulated by the same passions, de*
riving pain and pleasure from the same sources,
with similar hopes and fears, aspirations and alarms.
In the Third Voyage of Sinbad he arrives at an
island were he finds one man, a negro, as taU as a
palm-tree, and with a single eye in the middle of
his forehead. He takes up the crew, one by one,
and selects the fattest as first to be devoured.
This is done a second time. At length nine of the
THE EAST AND OF EUROPE. 205
boldest seize on a spit, while he lay on his back
asleep, and, having heated it red-hot, thrust it into
his eye. — This is precisely the story of Ulysses and
the Cyclops.
The story of the Little Hunchback, who is
choaked with a fish-bone, and, after having brought
successive individuals into trouble on the suspicion
of murdering him, is restored to life again, is
nearly the best known of the Arabian Tales. The
merry jest of Dan Hew, Monk of Leicester, who
" once was hanged, and four times slain," bears
a very striking resemblance to this*.
A similar resemblance is to be found, only
changing the sex of the s^gressor, between the
well known tale of Patient Grizzel, and that of
Chdieristany in the Persian Tales. This lady
WIS a queen of the Gins, who fell in love with the
emperor of China, and agrees to marry him upon
condition that she shall do what she pleases, and
he shall never doubt that what she does is right.
She bears him a son, beautiful as the day, atid
throws him into the fire. She bears him a daughr
ter, and gives her to a white bitch, who runa away
with her, and disappears. The emperor goes to
war with the Moguls; and the qu^ utterly de-
stroys tl^ provisions of his army. But the fire
was a salamander, and the bitch a fairy, who rear
the children in the most admirable manaer ; and
• It is in Selden's Collection of Ballads in the Bodleian Li-
brary. See Letters from tlie Bodleian, YoL I, p. 12D to 1*26.
206 CAUSES OF HUMAN CREDULITY.
the provisions of the army were poisoned by a
traitor, and are in a miraculous manner replaced
by such as were wholesome and of the most invi--
gorating qualities.
CAUSES OF HUMAN CREDULITY.
Meanwhile, though the stories above related
are extracted from books purely and properly of
fiction, they exhibit so just a delineation of
Eastern manners and habits of mind, that, in the
defect of materials strictly historical, they may to
a certain degree supply the place. The principal
feature they set before us is credulity and a love
of the marvellous. This is ever found characte-
ristic of certain ages of the world ; but in Asia it
prevails in uninterrupted continuity. Wherever
learning and the exercise of the intellectual facul-
ties first shew themselves, there mystery and a
knowledge not to be communicated but to the
select few must be expected to appear. Wisdom
in its natural and genuine form seeks to diffuse
itself; but in the East on the contrary it is only
valued in proportion to its rarity. Those who de-
voted themselves to intellectual improvement,
looked for it rather in solitary abstraction, than in
free communication with the minds of others ; and,
when they condescended to»the use of the organ
of speech, they spoke in enigmas and ambiguities,
and in phrases better adapted to produce wonder
CAUSES OF HUMAN CREDULITY. 20/
and perplexity, than to enlighten and instruct.
When the more consummate instructed the novice,
it was by slow degrees only, and through the me-
dium of a long probation. In consequence of this
state of things the privileged few conceived of
their own attainments with an over-weening pride,
and were puffed up with a sense of superiority ;
while the mass of their fellow-creatures looked to
them with astonishment; and, agreeably to the
Oriental creed of two independent and contending
principles of good and of evil, regarded these se*
lect and supernaturally endowed beings anon as a
source of the most enviable blessings, and anon as
objects of unmingled apprehension and terror,
before whom their understandings became pros-
trate, and every thing that was most appalling and
dreadful was most easily believed. In this state
superstition unavoidably grew infectious j and the
more the seniors inculcated and believed, the more
the imagination of the juniors became a pliant and
unresisting slave.
The Mantra, or charm, consisting of a few un-
intelligible words repeated again and again, always
accompanied, or rather preceded, the supposed
miraculous phenomenon that was imposed on the
ignorant. Water was flung over, or in the face of,
the thing or person upoa whom the miraculous
effect wjis to be produced. Incense was burned ;
and such chemical substances were set on fire, the
208 CAUSES OF HUMAN CHEDULITY.
dazzling appearance of which might confound the
senses of the spectators. The whole consisted in
the art of the ju^ler. The first business was to
act on the passions, to excite awe and fear and
curiosity in the parties ; and next by a sort of
slight of hand» and by changes too rapid to be fol-
lowed by an unpractised eye, to produce pheno-
mena, wholly unanticipated, and that could not be
accounted for. Superstition was further an essen-
tial ingredient; and this is never perfect, but
where the superior and more active party regards
himself as something more than human, and the
party acted upon beholds in the other an object of
religious reverence, or tingles with apprehension
of he knows not what of fearful and calamitous.
The state of the party acted on, and indeed of
either, is never complete, till the senses ai'e con-
founded, what is imagined is so powerful as in a
m^iner t6 exclude what is real, in a word, till^ as
the poet expresses it, " function is smothered in
surmise, and nothing is, but what is not."
It is in such a state of the faculties that it is en-
tirely natural and simple, that one should mistake
a mere dumb animal for one's relative or near con-
nection in disguise. And, the delusion having
once begun, the deluded individual gives to every
gesture and motion of limb and eye an explanation
that forwards the deception. It is in the same
way that in ignorant ages the notion of changeling
CAUSES OF HUMAN CREDULITY. 209
has been produced. The weak and fascinated
mother sees every feature with a turn of expres-
sion unknown before, all the habits of the child
appear different and strange, till the parent herself
denies her offspring, and sees in the object so
lately cherished and doated on, a monster uncouth
and horrible of aspect.
211
DARK AGES OF EUROPE.
In Europe we are slenderly supplied with his-
torians, and with narratives exhibiting the manners
and peculiarities of successive races of men, from
the time of Theodosius in the close of the fourth
century of the Qiriistian era to the end of the
tenth. Mankind during that period were in an
uncommon degree wrapped up . in ignorance and
barbarism. We may be morally sure that this was
an interval beyond all others, in which superstition
and an implicit faith in supernatural phenomena
predominated over this portion of the globe. The
laws of nature, and the everlasting chain of antece-
dents and consequents, were little recognised. In
proportion as illumination and science have risen
on the world, men have become aware that the
succession of events is universally operating, and
that the frame of men and animals is every where
the same, modified only by causes not less un*
changeable in their influence than the internal
constitution of the frame itself. We have learned
to explain much ; we are able to predict and in-
vestigate the course of things ; and the contem-
plative and the wise are not less intimately and
profoundly persuaded that the process of natural
events is sure and simple and void of all just occasion
p 2
212 DARK AGES OF EUROPE.
for surprise and the lifting up of hands in asto-
nishment, where we are not yet familiarly ac-
quainted with the developement of the elements
of things, as where we are. What we have not
yet mastered, we feel confidently persuaded that
the investigators that come after us will reduce to
rules not less obvious, familiar and comprehen-
sible, than is to us the rising of the sun, or the
progress of animal and vegetable life from the first
bud and seed of existence to the last stage of de-
crepitude and decay.
But in these ages of ignorance, when but few,
and those only the most obvious, laws of nature
were acknowledged, every event that was not of
almost daily occurrence, was contemplated with
more or less of awe and alarm. These men " saw
God in clouds, and heard him in the wind.** In-
stead of having regard only to that universal Pro-
vidence, which acts not by partial impulses, but
by general laws, they beheld, as they conceived,
the immediate hand of the Creator, or rather, upon
most occasions, of some invisible intelligence, some-
times beneficent, but perhaps oftener malignant
and capricious, interfering, to baffle the foresight of
the sage, to humble the pride of the intelligent,
and to place the discernment of the most gifted
upon a level with the drivellings of the idiot, and
the ravings of the insane.
And, as in events men saw perpetually the su-
pernatural and miraculous, so in their fellow-
DARK AGES OF EUROPE. 213
creatures they continually sought, and therefore
frequently imagined that they found, a gifted race,
that had command over the elements, held com-
merce with the invisible world, and could produce
the most stupendous and terrific effects. In man,
as we now behold him, we can ascertain his na-
ture, the strength and pliability of his limbs, the
accuracy of his eye, the extent of his intellectual
acquisitions, and the subtlety of his powers of
thought, and can therefore in a great measure an-
ticipate what we have to hope or to fear from him.
Every thing is regulated by what we call natural
means. But, in the times I speak of, all was mys-
terious: the powers of men were subject to no
recognised laws : and therefore nothing that ima-
gination could suggest, exceeded the bounds of
credibility. Some men were supposed to be so
rarely endowed that " a thousand liveried angels'*
waited on them invisibly, to execute their behests
for the benefit of those they favoured ; while, much
oftener, the perverse and crookedly disposed, who
delighted in mischief, would bring on those to
whom, for whatever capricious reason, they were
hostile, calamities, which no sagacity could predict,
and no merely human power could bafile and resist.
After the tenth century enough of credulity re-
mained, to display in glaring colours the aberra-
tions of the human mind, and to furnish forth tales
which will supply abundant matter for the re-
mainder of this volume. But previously to this
214 DARK AGES OF EUROPE.
perio(^ we may be morally sure, reigned most emi-
nently the sabbath of magic and sorcery, when
nothing was too wild, and remote from the reality
of things, not to meet with an eager welcome,
when terrOT and astonishment united themselves
with a nameless delight, and the auditor was
alarmed even to a soft of madness, at the same time
that hie greedily demanded an ever-fresh supply of
Congenial aliitietit. The more the known laws of
the universe and the natural possibility of things
were violated, with the stronger marks of approba-
tion was the tale, received: while the dextrous
impostor, aware of the temper of his age, and
knowing how most completely to blindfold and lead
astray his prepared dupes, made a rich harvest of
the folly of his contemporaries. But I am wrong
to call him an impostor. He imposed upon him*
Self, no less than on the gaping crowd. His dis-
courses, even in the act of being pronounced, won
upon his own ear ; and the dexterity with which he
baffled the observation of others, bewildered his
ready sense, and filled him with astonishment at the
magnitude of his achievements. The accomplished
adventurer was always ready to regard himself
rather as a sublime being endowed with great and
stupendous attributes, than as a pitiful trickster.
He became the God of his own idolatry, and stood
astonished, as the witch of Endor in the English
Bible is represented to have done, at the success
of his incantations.
DARK AQJJS OF EUROPE. ^15
But ftll these thipg? are p^sed aw^y, wd ?re
buried in the gulf of oblivion. A thowsftud taleiSv
each more wonderful than the other, m^kfid the
year aa it glided ^w;Qy, Every y^Jl^ had. ite
feirieg ;. and every hill its. giants, No wUt^ry
dwelling, unpeopled with human ijiha^bit^ntg^ w^
without its ghosts } and no chureh-yard in the ab-
sence of day-light could be crossed with impnnityt
The gifted enchantet " bedimmed
The noon-tide sun, called forth the mutinous winds,
And *twixt the green sea and the azured vault
Set roaring war; to the dread, rattling thunder
He gave forth fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak
With his own bolt, the strong-based promontory
He made to shake^ and by the spurs plucked up
The pine and cedar."
It is but a small remnant of these marvellous
adventuires that ha^ been preserved. The greater
part of them are swallowed up in thj^t gulf of ob^
Uvion, to which are successively consiigned after a
brief interval al] events as they occur, except so
far as thdr memory is preserved through the mer
dium of writing and records. From the.eleventh
century commences aMream of historical relation*
which since that time never entirely eludes the
search of the diligent enquirer, Pefore this period
there occa3ioniilly appears an historian or miscel-
laneous writer: but he seems to j^tart up by
chance ; the eddy presently closes over him, and
all is again impenetrable darkness.
216 MERLIN.
When this succession of writers began, they
were unavoidably induced to look back upon the
ages that had preceded them, and to collect here
and there from tradition any thing that appeared
especially worthy of notice. Of course any in-
formation they could glean was wild and uncertain ,
deeply stamped with the credulity and wonder of
an ignorant period, and still increasing in marvel-
lousness and absurdity from every hand it passed
through, and from every tongue which repeated it.
MERLIN.
One of the most extraordinary personages whose
story is thus delivered to us, is Merlin. He ap-
pears to have been contemporary with the period
of the Saxon invasion of Britain in the latter
part of the fifth century ; but probably the earliest
mention of his name by any writer that has com^
down to us is not previous to the eleventh. We
may the less wonder therefore at the incredible
things that are reported of him. He is first
mentioned in connection with the fortune of
Vortigem, who is represented by Geofirey of
Monmouth as at that time king of England. The
Romans having withdrawn their legions from this
island, the unwarlike Britons found themselves in-
competent to repel the invasions of the uncivilised
Scots and Picts, and Vortigem perceived no re-
medy but in inviting the Saxons from the northern
MEELIN. 217
continent to his aid. The Saxons successfully
repelled the invader ; but, having done this, they
refused to return home. They determined to
settle here, and, having taken various towns, are
represented as at length inviting Vortigem and his
principal nobility to a feast near Salisbury under
pretence of a peace, where they treacherously slew
three hundred of the chief men of the island,
and threw Vortigem into chains. Here, by way
of purchasing the restoration of his liberty, they
incluced him to order the surrender of London,
York, Winchester, and other principal towns.
Having lost all his strong holds, he consulted his
magicians as to how he was to secure himself from
this terrible foe. They advised him to build an
impregnable tower, and pointed out the situation
where it was to be erected. But so unfortunately
did their advice succeed, that all the work that his
engineers did in the building one day, the earth
swallowed, so that no vestige was to be found on
the next. The magicians were consulted again on
this fresh calamity ; and they told the king that
that there was no remedying this disaster, other
than by cementing the walls of his edifice with the
blood of a human being, who was born of no hu-
man father.
Vortigern sent out his emissaries in every direc-
tion in search of this victim ; and at length by
strange good fortune they lighted on Merlin near
gl8 MERLIN.
the town of Caermarthen, who told them that his
mother was the daughter of a king, but that she
had been got with child of him by a being of an
angelic nature, and not a man* No sooner had
they received this information, than they seized
him^ and hurried him away to Vortigem as the
victim required^ But in presence of the king he
baffled the magicians ; he told the king that the
ground they had chosen for his tower, had under-^
neath it a lake, which being drained, they would
find at the bottom two dragons of inextinguishable
hostility, that under that form figured the Britons
and Saxons, all of which upon the experiment
proved to be true,
Vortigem died shortly after, and was succeeded
first by Ambrosius, and then by Uther Pendragon*
Merlin was the confident of all these kings. To
Uther he exhibited a very criminal sort of com*
pliance. Uther became desperately enamoured of
Igema, wife of the duke of Comwal, and tried
every means to seduce her in vain. Having coa-
sulted Merlin, the magician qontrived by an ex-
traordinary unguent to metamorphose Uther into
the form of the duke. The duke had shut up his
wife for safety in a very strong tower ; but Uther
in his new form gained unsuspected entrance ; and
the virtuous Igerna received him to her embraces,
by means of which he begot Arthur, afterwards
the most renowned sovereign of this island. Uther
MERLl^f• 219
now contrived that the duke, her husband, should
be slam in battle, and immediately married the
fiur Igema, and made her his queen.
The next exploit of Merlin was with the intent
to erect a monument that should last for ever, to
the memory of the three hundred British nobles that
were massacred by the Saxons. This design pro-
duced the extraordinary edifice called Stonehenge.
These mighty stones, which by no human power
could be placed in the position in which we be-
hold them, had originally been set up in Africa, and
afterwards by means unknown were transported
to Ireland. Merlin commanded that they should
be carried over the sea, and placed where they
now are, on Salisbury Plain. The workmen, hav-
ing received his directions, exerted all their power
and skill) but could not move one of them. Mer-
lin, having for some time watched their exertions,
at length applied his magic ; and to the amaze^
ment of every one, the stones spontaneously quitted
the situation in which they had been placed, rose
to a great height in the air, and then pursued
the course which Merlin had prescribed, finally
settling themselves in WiltsTiire, precisely in the
position in which we now find them, and which
they will for ever retain.
The last adventure recorded of Merlin pro-
ceeded from a project he conceived for surround-
ing his native town of Caermarthen with a brazen
wall. He committed the execution of this project
220 MERLIN.
to a multitude of fiends, who laboured upon the
plan underground in a neighbouring cavern*. In
the mean while Merlin had become enamoured of a
supernatural being, called the Lady of the Lake.
The lady had long resisted his importunities, and
in fact had no inclination to yield to his suit.
One day however she sent for him in great haste ;
and Merlin was of course eager to comply with
her invitation. Nevertheless, before he set out,
he gave it strictly in charge to the fiends, that
they should by no means suspend their labours till
they saw him return. The design of the lady was
to make sport with him, and elude his addresses.
Merlin on the contrary, with the hope to melt her
severity, undertook to shew her the wonders of his
art. Among the rest he exhibited to her observa-
tion a tomb, formed to contain two bodies j at the
same time teaching her a charm, by means of
which the sepulchre would close, and never again
be opened. The lady pretended not to believe that
the tomb was wide enough for its purpose, aqd in-
veigled the credulous Merlin to enter it, and place
himself as one dead. No sooner had she so far
succeeded, than she closed the lid of the sepulchre,
and pronouncing the charm, rendered it impossible
that it should ever be opened again till the day of
judgment. Thus, according to the story. Merlin
was shut in, a corrupted and putrifying body with
a living soul, to which still inhered the faculty of
a Spenser, Fairy Queen, Book III, Canto III, stanza 9, etseqfk,
MERLIN. 2^1
returning in audible sounds a prophetic answer to
such as resorted to it as an oracle. Meanwhile
the fiends, at work in the cavern near Caermarthen,
mindful of the injunction of their taskmaster, not
to suspend their labours till his return, proceed for
ever in their oflSce ; and the traveller who passes
that way, if he lays his ear close to the mouth of
the cavern, may hear a ghastly noise of iron chains
and brazen caldrons, the loud strokes of the ham-
mer, and the ringing sound of the anvil, inter-
mixed with the pants and groans of the workmen,
enough to unsettle the brain and confound the
faculties of him that for any time shall listen to
the din.
As six hundred years elapsed between the time
of Merlin and the earliest known records of his
achievements, it is impossible to pronounce what
he really pretended to perform, and how great
were the additions which successive reporters have
annexed to the wonders of his art, more than the
prophet himself perhaps ever dreamed of. In
later times, when the historians were the contem-
poraries of the persons by whom the supposed
wonders were achieved, or the persons who have
for these causes been celebrated have bequeathed
certain literary productions to posterity, we may
be able to form some conjecture as to the degree
in which the heroes of the tale were deluding or
deluded, and may exercise our sagacity in the
question by what strange peculiarity of mind ad-
222 ST. DUNSTAN.
ventures which we now hold to be impossible ob-
tained so general belief. But in a case like this
of Merlin, who lived in a time so remote from
that in which his history is first known to have
been recorded, it is impracticable to determine at
what time the fiction which was afterwards gene-
rally received began to be reported, or whether
the person to whom the miracles were imputed
ever heard or dreamed of the extraordinary things
he is represented as having achieved.
ST. DUNSTAN.
An individual scarcely less famous in the dark
ages, and who, like Merlin, . lived in confidence
with successive kings, was St. Dunstan. He was
born and died in the tenth century. It is not a
Httle instructive to employ our attention upon the
recOTded adventures, and incidents occurring in
the lives, of such men, since, though plentifully
interspersed with impossible tales, they serve to
discover to us the tastes and prepossessions of the
times in which these men lived, and the sort of
accomplishments which were necessary to their
success.
St. Dunstan is said to have been a man of dis-
tinguished birth, and to have spent the early
years of his life in much licentiousness. He was
however doubtless a person of the most extraor-
dinary endowments of nature Ambition early
ST. DUNSTAK. 223
lighted its fire in hiB bosom ; and he displayed the
greatest facility in acquiring any talent or art on
which he fixed his attention. His career of pro-
fligacy was speedily arrested by a dangerous ill-
iiesSyin which he was given over by his physicians.
While he lay apparently at the point of death, an
angel was suddenly seen, bringing a medicine to
him which effected his instant cure. The saint
immediately rose from his bed, and hastened to
the near^t church to give God thanks for his
recovery. As he passed along, the devil, sur-
rounded with a pack of black dogs, interposed
himself to obstruct his way. Dunstan however
intrepidly brandished a rod that he held in his
hand, and his opposers took to flight. When he
came to the church, he found the doors closed.
But the same angel, who effected his cure, was at
hand, and, taking him up softly by the hair of his
head, placed him before the high altar, where he
peribrmed his devotions with suitable fervour.
That he might expiate the irregularities of his
pcKst life, St. Dunstan now seduded himself en-
tirely from the world, and constructed for his
habitation a cell in the abbey of Glastonbury, so
narrow that he could neither stand upright in it,
nor stretch out his limbs in repose. He took
scarcely so much sustenance as would support life,
and mortified his flesh with frequent castigations.
He did not however pass his time during this
sedusion in vacuity and indolence. He piu'sued
224 ST. DUNSTAN.
his studies with the utmost ardour, and made a
great proficiency in philosophy, divinity, painting,
sculpture and music. Above all, he was an ad-
mirable chemist, excelled in manufactures of gold
and other metals, and was distinguished by a won-
derful skill in the art of magic.
During all these mortifications and the severe-
ness of his industry, he appears to have become a
prey to extraordinary visions and imaginations.
Among the rest, the devil visited him in his cell,
and, thrusting his head in at the window, dis-
turbed the saint with obscene and blasphemous
speeches, and the most frightful contortions of the
features of his countenance. Dunstan at length,
wearied out with his perseverance, seized the red-
hot tongs with which he was engaged in some
chemical experiment, and, catching the devil by
the nose, held him with the utmost firmness, while
Satan filled the whole neighbourhood for many
miles round with his bellowings. Extraordinary
as this may appear, it constitutes one of the most
prominent incidents in the life of the saint ; and
the representations of it were for ever repeated
in ancient carvings, and in the illuminations of
church-windows.
This was the precise period at which the pope
and his adherents were gaining the greatest ascen-
dancy in the Christian world. The doctrine of
transubstantiation was now in the highest vogue ;
and along with it a precept still more essential to
ST, DUNSTAN. 22^
the empire of the Catholic church, the celibacy of
the clergy. This was not at first established with-
out vehement struggles. The secular clergy, who
were required at once to cast off their wives as
concubines, and their children as bastards, found
every impulse of nature rising in arms against the
mandate. The regular clergy, or monks, were in
obvious rivalship with the seculars, and engrossed
to themselves, as much as possible, all promotions
and dignities, as well ecclesiastical as civil. St.
Augustine, who first planted Christianity in this
island, was a Benedictine monk ; and the Benedic-
tines were for a long time in the highest reputa-
tion in the Catholic church. St. Dunstan was
als6 a Benedictine. In his time the question of
the celibacy of the clergy was most vehemently
agitated ; and Dunstan was the foremost of the
champions of the new institution in England.
The contest was carried on with great vehemence.
Many of the most powerful nobility, impelled
either by pity for the sufferers, or induced by
family affinities, supported the cause of the secu-
lars. Three successive synods were held on the
subject; and the cause of nature it is said would
have prevailed, had not Dunstan and his confede-
rates called in the influence of miracles to their
aid. In one instance, a crucifix, fixed in a conspi-
cuous part of the place of assembly, uttered a voice
at the critical moment, saying, " Be steady ! you
have once decreed right; alter not your ordi-
Q
226 ST. DUNSTAN.
nancesi*' At another time the floor of tlie place
of meeting partially gave way, precipitating the
ungodly opposers of celibacy into the place be-
neath, while Dunstan and his party, who were in
another part of the assembly, were miraculously
preserved unhurt.
In these instances Dunstan seemed to be en-
gaged in the cause of religion, and might be con-
sidered as a zealous, though mistaken, advocate
of Christian simplicity and purity. But he was
not contented with figuring merely as a saint. He
insinuated himself into the favour of Edred,'the
grandson of Alfred, and who, after two or three
short reigns, succeeded to the throne. Edred
was an inactive prince, but greatly under the
dominion of religious prejudices; and Dunstan,
being introduced to him, found him an apt subject
fbr his machinations. Edred first made him abbot
of Glastonbury, one of the most powerful ecclesi-
astical dignities in England, and then treasurer of
the kingdom. During the reign of this prince,
Dunstan disposed of all ecclesiastical affairs, and
even of the treasures of the kingdom, at his
pleasure.
But Edred filled the throne only nine years, and
was succeeded by Edwy at the early age of seven-
teen, who is said to have been endowed with
every grace of form, and the utmost firmness and
intrepidity of spirit. Dunstan immediately con*
ceived a jealousy of these qualities, and took an
ST. DUNSTAN. 227
eariy opportunity to endeavour to disarm them.
Edwy entertained a passion for a princess of the
royal house, and even proceeded to marry her,
though within the degrees forbidden by the canon
law. The rest of the story exhibits a lively pic-
ture of the manners of these barbarous times.
Odo, archbishop of Canterbury, the obedient tool
of Dunstan, on the day of the coronation obtruded
himself with his abettor into the private apartment,
to which the king had retired with his queen, only
accompanied by her mother ; and here the ambi-
tious abbot, after loading Edwy with the bitterest
reproaches for his shameless sensuality, thrust him
back by main force into the hall, where the nobles
of the kingdcmi were still engaged at their banquet.
The spirited young prince conceived a deep
resentment of this unworthy treatment, and, seiz-
ing an, Qpportunity, called Dunstan to account for
malversation in the treasury during the late king's
life-time. The priest refused to answer ; and the
issue was that he was banished the realm.
, But he left behind him a faithftd and impHcit
coadjutor in archbishop Odo. This prelate is said
actually to have forced his way with a party of
soldiers into the palace, and, having seized the
queen, barbarously to have seared her cheeks with
a red-hot iron, and sent her off a prisoner to Ire-
land. He then proceeded to institute all the forms
of a divorce^ to which the unhappy king was
obliged to submit. Meanwhile the queen, having
q2
228 ST, DUNSTAN.
recovered her beauty, found means to escape, and,
crossing the Channel, hastened to join her hus-
band. But here again the priests manifested the
same activity as before. They intercepted the
queen in her journey, and by the most cruel means
undertook to make her a cripple for life. The
princess however sunk under the experiment, and
ended her existence and her woes together.
A rebellion was now excited against the sacri-
legious Edwy ; and the whole north of England,
having rebelled, was placed under the dominion of
his brother, a boy of thirteen years of age. In the
midst of these adventures Dunstan returned from
the continent, and fearlessly shewed himself in his
native country. His party was every where tri-
umphant ; Odo being dead, he was installed arch-
bishop of Canterbury, and Edwy, oppressed with
calamity on every side, sunk to an untimely grave.
The rest of the life of Dunstan was passed in
comparatively tranquillity. He made and unmade
kings as he pleased. Edgar, the successor of
Edwy, discovered the happy medium of ^nergy
and authority as a sovereign, combined with a dis-
position to indulge the ambitious policy of the
priesthood. He was licentious in his amours,
without losing a particle of his ascendancy as a^
sovereign. He however reigned only a few years j
but Dunstan at his death found means to place his
eldest son on the throne under his special protec-
tion, in defiance of the intrigues of the ambitious
ST. DUNSTAN, 229
Elfrida, the king's second wife, who moved heaven
and earth to cause the crown to descendupon her
own son, as yet comparatively an infant.
In this narrative we are presented with a Uvely
picture of the means by which ambition cUmbed
to its purposes in the dai'kness of the tenth cen-
tury, Dunstan was enriched with all those en
dowments which might seem in any age to lead to
the highest distinction. Yet it would appear to
have been in vain that he was thus qualified, if he
had not stooped to arts that fell in with the gross
prejudices of his contemporaries. He had con-
tinual recourse to the aid of miracles. He gave into
practices of the most rigorous mortification. He
studied, and excelled in, all the learning and arts
that were then known. But his main dependence
was on the art of magic. The story of his taking
the devil by the nose with a pair of red-hot tongs,
seems to have been of greater service to him than
any other single adventure of his life. In other
times he might have succeeded in the schemes of
his political ambition by seemly and specious
means. But it was necessary for him in the times
in which he lived, to proceed with eclat, and in a
way that should confound all opposers. The ut-
most resolution was required to overwhelm those
who might otherwise have been prompted to con-
tend against him. Hence it appears that he took
a right measure of the understanding of his con-
temporaries, when he dragged the young king
330 ST. DUNSTAN.
from the scene of his retirement, and brought him
back by force into the assembly of the nobles.
And the inconceivable barbarity practised to the
queen, v^hich would have rendered his name
horrible in a more civilised age, was exactly cal-
culated to overwhelm the feelings and subject the
understandings of the men among whom he lived.
The great quality by which he was distinguished
was confidence, a frame of behaviour which shewed
that he acted from the fullest conviction, and never
doubted that his proceedings had the immediate
approbation of heaven.
231
COMMUNICATION OF EUROPE AND THE SARACENS.
It appears to have been about the close of the
tenth century that the more curious and inquisi-
tive spirits of £urope first had recourse to the East
as a source of such information and art,, as they
found most glaringly deficient among their coun*
trymen. We have seen that in Persia there wa9
an uninterrupted succession of professors in the
art of magic : and, when the followers of Mahomet
by their prowess had gained the superiority over
the greater part of Asia, over all that was known
of Africa, and a considerable tract of Europe, they
gradually became awake to the desire of cultivating
the sciences, and in particular of making them-
selves masters of whatever was most liberal and
eminent among the disciples of Zoroaster. To
this they added a curiosity respecting Greek learn-
ing, especially as it related to medicine and the
investigation of the powers of physical nature.
Bagdad became an eminent seat of learning ; and
perhaps, next to Bagdad, Spain under the Sara^
cens, or Moors, was a principal abode for the pro-
fessors of ingenuity and literature.
GERBERT, POPE SILVESTER II.
As a consequence of this state of things the
more curious men of Europe by degrees adopted
GERBERT, POPE SILVESTER II.
the practice of resorting to Spain for the purpose
of enlarging their sphere of observation and know-
ledge. Among others Gerbert is reported to have
been the first of the Christian clergy, who strung
themselves up to the resolution of mixing with the
followers of Mahomet, that they might learn from
thence things, the knowledge of which it was im-
possible for them to obtain at home. This gene-
rous adventurer, prompted by an insatiable thirst
for information, is said to have secretly withdrawn
himself from his monastery of Fleury in Burgun-
dy, and to have spent several years among the
Saracens of Cordova. Here he acquired a know-
ledge of the language and learning of the Ara-
Jjians, particularly of their astronomy, geometry
and arithmetic ; and he is understood to have been
the first that imparted to the north and west of
Europe a knowledge of the Arabic numerals, a
science, which at first sight might be despised for
its simplicity, but which in its consequences is
no inconsiderable instrument in subtilising the
the powers of human intellect. He likewise in-
troduced the use of clocks. He is also represent-
ed to have made an extraordinary proficiency in
the art of magic ; and among other things is said
to have constructed a brazen head, which would
answer when it was spoken to, and oracularly re-
solve many difficult questions*. The same his-
torian assures us that Gerbert by the art of necro-
* William of Malmesbury, Lib. II, c. 10.
GERBERT, POPE SILVESTER !!• 233
mancy made various discoveries of hidden trea-
suies^ and relates in all its circumstances the spec-
tacle of a magic palace he visited underground,
with the multiplied splendours of an Arabian tale,
but di3tinguished by this feature, that, though its
magnificence was dazzling to the sight, it would
not abide the test of feeling, but vanished into
air, the moment it was attempted to be touched.
It happened with Gerbert, as with St Dunstan,
that he united an aspiring mind and a boundlei^s
spirit of ambition, with the intellectual curiosity
which has already been described. The first step
that he made into public life and the career for
which he panted, consisted in his being named
preceptor, first to Robert, king of France, the
son of Hugh Capet, and next to Otho the Third,
emperor of Germany. Hugh Capet appointed
him archbishop of Rheims ; but, that dignity being
<iisputed with him, he retired into Germany, and,
becoming eminently a favourite with Otho the
Third, he was by the influence of that prince
raised, first to be archbishop of Ravenna, and
afterwards to the papacy by the name of Silvester
' the Second^
Cardinal Benno, who was an adherent of the
anti-popes, and for that reason is supposed to
have calumniated Gerbert and several of his suc-
cessors, affirms that he was habitually waited on
by demons, that by their aid he obtained the papal
»> William of Malmesbury, Lib. Up c. 10.
234 BENEDICT THE NINTH. -
crown, and that the devil to whom he had sdd
himself, faithfully promised him that he should
live, till he had celebrated high mass at Jerusalem.
This however was merely a juggle of the evil
spirit i and Gerbert actually died, shortly after
having officidly dispensed the sacrament at the
church of the Holy Cross in Jerusalem, which is
one of the seven districts of the city of Rome.
This event occurred in the year 1003%
BENEDICT THE NINTH.
According to the same authority sorcery was at
this time extensively practised by some of the
highest dignitaries of the church, and five or six
popes in succession were notorious for these sacri-
legious practices. About the same period the
papal chair was at its lowest state of degradation ;
this dignity was repeatedly exposed for sale ;
and the reign of Gerbert, a man of consummate
abilities and attainments, is almost the only re-
deeming feature in the century in which he lived.
At length the tiara became the purchase of an am-
bitious &mily, which had already furnished two *
popes, in behalf of a boy of twelve years of age,
who reigned by the name of Benedict the Ninth.
This youth,, as he grew up, contaminated his rule
with every kind of profligacy and debauchery.
^ Naude, Apologie des Grands Hommes Accuses de Magie.
Malmesbury, ubi supra.
GREGORY THE SEVENTH^ 23S
But even he, according to Benno, was a pupil in
the school of Silvester, and became no mean pro-
ficient in the arts of sorcery. Among other things
he caused the matrons of Rome by his incanta-
tions to follow him in troops among woods and
mountains, being bewitched and their souls sub-
dued by the irresistible charms of his magic*".
GREGORY THE SEVENTH.
Benno presents us with a regular catalogue of
the ecclesiastical sorcerers of this period : Bene-
dict the Ninth, and Laurence, archbishop of
Melfi, (each of whom, he says, learned the art of
Silvester), John XX and Gregory VI. But his
most vehement accusations are directed against
Gregory VII, who, he affirms, was in the early
part of his career, the constant companion and
assistant of these dignitaries in unlawful practices
of this sort.
Gregory VII, v^hose original name was Hil-
debrand, is one of the great champions of the
Romish church, and did more than any other man
to establish the law of the celibacy of the clergy,
and to take the patronage of ecclesiastical dignities
out of the hands of the laity. He was eminently
qualified for this undertdcing by the severity of his
manners, and the inflexibility of his resolution to
accomplish whatever he undertook.
» Naude, Apologie des Grands Hommes Accuses de Magie,
chap. 19.
238 GREGORY THE SEVENTH,
and a necromancer. The OTiperor, pu£Ped up with
his victories, marched against Rome, and took it,
with the exception of the castle of St. Angelo, in
whi^h the pope shut himself up ; and in the mean
time Henry caused the anti-pope, his creature, to
be solemnly inaugurated in the church of the La-
teran. Gregory however, never dismayed, and
never at an end of his expedients, called in the
Normans, who had recently distinguished them-
selves by their victories in Naples and Sicily. Ro-
bert Guiscard, a Norman chieftain, drove the Ger-
mans out of Rome ; but, some altercations ensuing
between the pontiff and his deliverer, the city was
given up to pillage, and Gregory was glad to take
refuge in Salerno, the capital of his Norman ally,
where he shortly after expired, an exile and a
fugitive.
Gregory was no doubt a man of extraordinary
resources and invincible courage. He did not live
to witness the triumph of his policy ; but his pro-
jects for the exaltation of the church finally met
with every, success his most sanguine wishes could
have aspired to. In addition to all the rest it
happened, that the counters Matilda, a princess
who in her own right possessed extensive sove-
reignties in Italy, nearly commensurate with what
has since been styled the ecclesiastical state, trans-
ferred to the pope in her life-time, and confirmed
by her testament, all these territories, thus mainly
contributing to render him and his successors so
GREGORY THE SEVENTH, 239
considerable as temporal princes, as since that time
they have appeared.
It is, however, as a sorcerer, thit Gregory VII
(Hildebrand) finds a place in this volume.. Benno
relates that, coming one day from his Alban villa,
he found, just as he was entering the church of the
Lateran, that he had left behind him his magical
book, which he was ascustomed to carry about
his person. He immediately sent two trusty
servants to fetch it, at the same time threatening
them most fearfully if they should attempt to look
into the volume. Curiosity however got the
better of their fear. They opened the book, and
began to read ; ivhen presently a number of devils
appeared, saying, "We are come to obey your com-
mands, but, if we find ourselves trifled with, we
shall certainly fall upon and destroy you.'* The
servants, exceedingly terrified, replied, " Our will
is that you should immediately throw down so much
of the wall of the city as is now before us." The^
devils obeyed ; and the servants escaped the danger
that hung over them." It is further said, that Gre-
gory was so expert in the arts of magic, that he
would throw out lightning by shaking his arm, and
dart thunder from his sleeve.**
But the most conspicuous circumstance in the
life of Gregory that has been made the foundation
of a charge of necromancy s^ainst him, is that,
• Mornay, Mysterium IniquitatiB, p. -258. Coeffetean, Re-
ponse a ditto, p. 274. •> Ibid.
240 GREGORY THE SEVENTH.
when Rodolph marched against Henry IV, the
pope was so confident of his success, as to venture
publicly to prophesy, both in speech and in writing,
that his adversary should be conquered and perish
in this campaign. " Nay," he added, " this pro-
phecy shall be accomplished before St. Peter's day ;
nor do I desire any longer to be acknowledged for
pope, than on the condition that this comes to
pass.'* It is added, that Rodolph, relying on the
prediction, six times renewed the battle, in which
finally he perished instead of his competitor. But
this does not go far enough to substantiate a charge
of necromancy. It is further remarked, that Gre-
gory was deep in the pretended science of judicial
astrology ; and this, without its being necessary to
have recourse to the solution of diaboUcal aid, may
sufficiently account for the undoubting certainty
with which he counted on the event.
In the mean time this statement is of great im-
portance, as illustrative of the spirit of the times
in general, and the character of Gregory in parti-
cular. Rodolph, the competitor for the empire,
has his mind wrought up to such a pitch by this
prophetic assurance, that, five times repulsed, he
yet led on his forces a sixth time, and perished the
victim of his faith. Nor were his followers less
animated than he, and from the same cause. We
see also fi?om the same story, that Gregory was not
an artful and crafty impostor, but a man spurred on
by a genuine enthusiasm. And this indeed is
DUFt, KING OF SCOTLAND. 241
necessary to account for the whole of his conduct.
The audacity with which he opposed the claims of
Henry, and the unheard-of severity with which he
treated him at the fortress of Canosa, are to be re-
ferred to the same feature of character. Invincible
perseverance, when united with great resources of
intellect and a lofty spirit, will enable a man tho-
roughly to effect, what a person of inferior endow-
ments would not have dared so much as to dream
of. And Gregory, like St. Dunstan, achieved
incredible things, by skilfully adapting himself to
circumstances, and taking advantage of the temper
and weakness of his contemporaries.
DUFF, KING OF SCOTLAND.
Jt is not to be wondered at, when such things
occurred in Italy, the principal •seat of all the
learning and refinement then existing in Europe,
that the extreme northerly and western districts
should have been given up to the blindest super-
stition. Among other instances we have the fol-
lowing account in relation to Duff*, king of Scot-
land, who came to the crown about the year 968.
He found his kingdom in the greatest disorder
from numerous bands of robbers, many of whom
were persons of high descent, but of no competent
means of subsistence. Duff* resolved to put an
end to their depredations, and to secure those who
sought a quiet support from cultivating the fruits
242 DUFF, KING OF SCOTLAND.
of the earth from forcible invasion. He executed
the law against these disturbers without respect of
persons, and hence made himself many and power-
ful enemies. In the midst of his activity however
he suddenly fell sick, and became confined to his
bed. His physicians could no way account for his
distemper. They found no excess of any humour
in his body to which they could attribute his ill-
ness; his colour was fresh, and his eyes lively;
and he had a moderate and healthful appetite. But
with all this he was a total stranger to sleep ; he
burst out into immoderate perspirations ; and there
was scarcely any thing that remained of him,
but skin and bone. In the meantime secret in-
formation was brought that all this evil was the re-
sult of witchcraft. And, the house being pointed
out in which the sorcerers held their sabbath, a
band of soldiers was sent to surprise them. The
doors being burst open, they found one woman
roasting upon a spit by the fire a waxen image ol
the king, so like in every feature, that no doubl
was entertained that it was modelled by the art
of the devil, while another sat by, busily engaged
in reciting certain verses of enchantment, by
which means, as the wax melted, the king was con-
sumed with perspiration, and, as soon as it was
jutterly dissolved, his death should immediately fol-
low. The witches were seized, and from their owi\
confession burned alive. The image was broken to
pieces, and every fragment of it destroyed. And no
MACBETH. 243
sooner was this effected, than DufFhad all that night
the most refreshing and heakhfbl sleep, and the
next day rose without any remains of his infirmity*.
This reprieve however availed him but for a
shc^ time. He was no sooner recovered, than
he occupied himself as before with pursuing the
outlaws, whom he brought indiscriminately to
condign punishment. Among these there chanced
to be two young men, near relations of the gover-
nor of the castle of Fores, who had hitherto been
the king's most faithful adherents. These young
men had been deluded by ill company : and the
governor most earnestly sued to Duff for their par-
don. But the king was inexorable. Meanwhile,
as he had always placed the most entire trust in
their father, he continued to do so without the
smallest suspicion. The night after the execution,
the king slept in the castle of Fores, as he had
often done before ; but the governor, conceiving
the utmost rancour at the repulse he had sustain-
ed, and moreover instigated by his wife, in the
middle of the night murdered Duff in his bed, as
he slept. His reign lasted only four years^.
MACBETH.
The seventh king of Scotland after Duff, with an
interval of sixty-eight years, was Macbeth. The
» Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 206, 207.
^ Ibid, p. 207, 208.
R 2
244 MACBETH.
historian begins his tale of witchcraft, towards thq
end of the reign of Duncan, his predecessor, with
observing, ^* Shortly after happened a strange and
uncouth wonder, which afterward was the cause of
much trouble in the realm of Scotland. It fortuned,
as Macbeth and Banquo journeyed towards Fores,
where the king as then lay, they went sporting by
the way together, without other company save
only themselves, passing through the woods and
fields, when suddenly, in the midst of a laund,
there met them three women in strange and ferly
apparel, resembling creatures of an elder world,
whom when they attentively beheld, wondering
much at the sight, the first of them spake and said.
All hail, Macbeth, thane of Glamis (for he had
lately entered into that dignity and office by the
death of his father Synel). The second of them
said. Hail, Macbeth, thane of Cawdor. But the third
said. All hail, Macbeth, that hereafter shall be king
of Scotland. Then Banquo, What sort of women,
said he, are you, that seem so little favourable
unto me, whereas to my fellow here, besides high
offices, ye assign also the kingdom, appointing
forth nothing for me at all ? Yes, saith the first
of them, we promise greater benefits unto thee
than unto him, for he shall reign indeed, but with
an unlucky end, neither shall he leave any issue
behind him to succeed in his place ; where contra-
rily thou indeed shalt not reign at all, but of thee
thoiw shall be born, which shall govern the Scottish
MACBETH. 245
kingdom by long order of continual descent. Here-
idth the foresaid women vanished immediately out
of their sight.
" This was reputed at the first but some vain
fantastical illusion by Macbeth and Banquo, inso-
much that Banquo would call Macbeth in jest king
of Scotland, and Macbeth again would call him in
sport likewise the father of many kings. But after-
wards the common opinion was, that these women
were either the weird sisters, that is (as you would
say) the goddesses of destiny, or else some nymphs
or fairies, endued with knowledge of prophecy
by their necromantical science, because every
thing came to pass as they had spoken.
" For shortly after, the thane of Cawdor, being
condemned at Fores of treason against the king
committed, his lands, livings and offices were given
of the king's liberality unto Macbeth*.''
Malcolm, the preceding king of Scotland, had
two daughters, one of them the mother of Duncan,
and the other of Macbeth ; and in virtue of this
descent Duncan succeeded to the crown. The
accession of Macbeth therefore was not very re-
mote, if he survived the present king. Of conse-
quence Macbeth, though he thought much of the
prediction of the weird sisters, yet resolved to wait
his time, thinking that, as had happened in his
former preferment, this might come. to pass with-
out his aid. But Duncan had tyiro sons, Malcolm
» HoUinshed, History of Scotland, p. 243, 244.
246 MACBETH.
Cammore and Donald Bane. The law of succes-
sion in Scotland was, that, if at the death of the
reigning sovereign he that should succeed were
not of sufficient age to take on him the govern-
ment, he that was next of blood to him should
be admitted. Duncan however at this juncture
created his eldest son Malcolm prince of Cumber-
land, a tide which was considered as designating
him heir to the throne. Macbeth was greatly
troubled at this, as cutting off the expectation h^
thought he had a right to entertain : and, the
words of the weird sisters still ringing in his ears>
and his wife with ambitious speeches urging
him to the deed, he, in conjun^^tion with some
trusty friends, among whom was Banquo, came to
a resolution to kill the king at Inverness. The
d^ed being perpetrated, Malcolm, the eldest son
of Duncan, fled for safety into Cumberland, and
Donald j the second, into Ireland**.
Macbeth, who became Jking o£ Scotland in the
year 1040, reigned for ten years with great popu-
larity and applause^ but at the end of that time
changed his manner of government, and became a
tyrant. His first action in this character was
against Banquo. He nemembered' that the weird
sisters had promised to Banquo that he should be
father to a line of kings. Haunted with this re-
collection, Macbeth invited Banquo and his son
!^eance to a sypper^ and appointed assassins to
b Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 244, 245.
MACBETH. 247
murder them both on their return, Banquo was
slain accordingly ; but ileance, under favour of
the darkness of the night, escaped^.
This murder brought Macbeth into great odium,
since every man began to doubt of the security
of his life, and Macbeth at the same time to fear
the ill wiU of his subjects. He therefore pro-
ceeded to destroy all against whom he entertained
any suspicion, and every day more and more to
steep his hands in blood. Further to secure him-
self, he built a castle on the top of a high hill,
called Dunsinnan, which was placed on such an
elevation, that it seemed impossible to approach it
in a hostile manner. This work he carried on by
means of requiring the thanes of the kingdom, each
one in turn, to come with a set of workmen to help
forward the edifice. When it came to the turn of
Macduff, thane of Fife, he sient workmen, but did
not come himself, as the others had done. Mac-
l>eth from that time regarded Macduff with an eye
of perpetual suspicion*^.
Meanwhile Macbeth, remembering that the ori-
gin of his present greatness consisted in the pro-
phecy of the weird sisters, addicted himself con-
tinually to the consulting of wizswds. Those he
consulted gave him a pointed warning to take
heed of Macduff, who in time to come would seek
to destroy him. This warning would unquestion-
« Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 246.
d Ibid, p. 248, 249.
248 MACBETH.
ably have proved fatal to Macduff; had not on the
Other hand Macbeth been buoyed up in security,
by the prediction of a certain witch in whom he
had great trust, that he should never be vanquished
till the wood of Bernane came to the castle of
Dunsinnan, and that he Should not be slain by
any man that was born of a woman ; both which
he judged to be impossibilities%
This vain confidence however urged him to do
many outrageous things; at the same time that
such was his perpetual uneasiness of mind, that in
every nobleman's house he had one servant or
another in fee, that he might be acquainted with
every thing that was said or meditated against him.
About this time Macduff fled to Malcolm, who
had now taken refuge in the court of Edward the
Confessor ; and Macbeth came with a strong party
into Fife with the purpose of surprising him. The
master being safe, those within Macduff's castle
threw open the gates, thinking that no mischief
would result from receiving the king. But Mac-
beth, irritated that he missed of his prey, caused
Macduff^s wife and children, and all persons who
were found within the castle, to be slain.*
Shortly after, Malcolm and Macduff, reinforced
by ten thousand English under the command of
Seyward, earl of Northumberland, marched into
Scotland. The subjects of Macbeth stole away
daily from him to join the invaders ; but he had
* Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 249w ' Ibid.
VIRGIL. 249
such confidence in the predictions that had been
delivered to him, that he still believed he should
never be vanquished. Malcolm meanwhile, as he
approached to the castle of Dunsinnan, commanded
his men to cut down, each of them, a bough from
the wood of Bemane, as large as he could bear,
that they might take the tyrant the more by sur-
prise. Macbeth saw, and thought the wood ap-
proached him ; but he remembered the prophecy^
and led forth and marshalled his men. When how-
ever the enemy threw down their boughs, and their
formidable numbers stood revealed, Macbeth and
his forces immediately betook themselves to flight.
Macduff pursued him, and was hard at his heels,
when the tyrant tui'ned his horse, and exclaimed,
" Why dost thou follow me ? Know, that it is or-
dained that no creature bom of a woman can ever
overcome me." Macduff instantly retorted, " I am
the man appointed to slay thee. I was not born
of a woman, but was untimely ripped from my
mother's womb.*' And, saying this, he killed him
on the spot. Macbeth reigned in the whole seven*
teen years*.
VIRGIL.
One of the most curious particulars, and which
cannot be omitted in a history of sorcery, is the
various achievements in the art of magic which have
been related of the poet Virgil. I bring them in
9 Hollinshed, History of Scotland, p. 251.
^if
U^
250 VIRGIL.
here, because they cannot be traced further back
thaa the eleventh or twelfth century. The burial-
place of this illustrious man was at Pausilippo, near
Naples ; the NeapoUtans had for many centuries
cherished a peculiar reverence for his memory ;
and it has been supposed that the old ballads, and
songs of the minstrels of the north of Italy, first
originated this idea respecting him*. The vulgar
of this city, full of imagination and poetry, con-
ceived the idea of treating him as the guardian
genius of the place ; and, in bodying forth this
conception, they represented him in his life-time as
gifted with supernatural powers, which he em-
ployed in various ways for the advantage of a city
that he so dearly loved. Be this as it will, it ap-
pears that Gervais of Tilbury, chancellor to Otho
the Fourth, emperor of Grermany, Helinandus, a
Cisterian monk, and Alexander Neckam, all of
whom lived about this time, first recorded these
particulars in their works.
They tell us, that Virgil placed a fly of brass over
one of the gates of the city, which, as long as it
continued there, that is, for a space of €ight years,
had the virtue of keeping Naples clear from mos-
kitoes and all noxious insects : that he built a set
of shambles, the meat in which was at all times free
from putrefiurtion : that he placed two images over
the gates of the city, one of which was named Joyftil^
and the other Sad, one of resplendent beauty, and
• Naude.
VIRGIL. . 251
the other hideous and deformed, and that whoever
entered the town under the former image would
succeed in all his undertakings, and under the latter
would as certainly miscarry; that he caused a
brazen statue to be erected on a mountain near
Naples, with a trumpet in his mouth, which when
the north wind blew, sounded so shrill as to drive
to the sea the fire and smoke which issued from
the neighbouring forges of Vulcan : that he built
different baths at Naples, specifically prepared for
the cure of every disease, which were afterwards
demolished by the maUce of the physicians : and
that he lighted a perpetual fire for the refreshment
of all travellers, close ta which he placed an archer
of brass, with his bow bent, and this inscription,
" Whoever strikes me, I will let fly my arrow :^
that a fool-hardy fellow notwithstanding struck the
statue, when the arrow was immediately shot into
the fire, and the fire was extinguished. It is added,
that, Naples being infested with a vast multitude
of contagious leeches, Virgil made a leech of gold,
which he threw into a pit, and so delivered the
city from the infection : that he surrounded his
garden with a wall of air, within which the rain
never fell: that he built a bridge of brass that
would transport him wherever he pleased : that he
made a set of statues, which were named the sal-
vation of Rome, which had the property that, if any
one of the subject nations prepared to revolt, the
statue, which bore the name of, and was adored by
^2 ROBERT Of LINCOLN,
that nation, rung a bell, and pointed with its finger
in the direction of the danger : that he made a
head, which had the virtue of predicting things
future : and lastly, amidst a world of other wonders,
that he cut a subterranean passage through mount
Pausilippo, that travellers might pass with perfect
safety, the mountain having before been so infested
Svith serpents and dragons, that no one could ven*
ture to cross it.
ROBERT OF LINCOLN.
The most eminent person next, after popes SiU
vester II and Gregory VII, who labours under
the imputation of magic, is Robert Grossetfite, or
ilobert of Lincoln, appointed bishop of that see
in the year 1235. He was, like those that have
previously been mentioned, a man of the most
transcendant powers of mind, and extraordinary
acquirements. His parents are said to have been
so poor, that he was compelled, when a boy, to
engage in the meanest offices for bread, and even
to beg on the highway. At length the mayor of
Lincoln, struck with his appearance, and the quick-
ness of his answers to such questions as were pro-
posed to him, took him into his family, and put
him to school. Here his ardent love of learning,
and admirable capacity for acquiring it, soon pro-
cured him many patrons, by whose assistance he
was enabled to prosecute his studies, first at Cam-
ROBERT OF LINCOLN. 253
bridge, afterwards at Oxford, and finally at Paris.
He was master of the Greek and Hebrew languages,
then very rare accomplishments j and is pronounced
by Roger Bacon, a very competent judge, of whom
we shall presently have occasion to speak, to have
spent much of his time, for nearly forty years, in
the study of geometry, astronomy, optics, and other
branches of mathematical learning, in all of which
he much excelled. So that, as we are informed
from the same authority, this same Robert of Lin-
coln, and his friend, Friar Adam de Marisco, were
the two most learned men in the world, and ex-
celled the rest of mankind in both human and
divine knowledge.
This great man especially distinguished himself
by his firm and undaunted opposition to the cor-
ruptions of the court of Rome. Pope Innocent IV,
who filled the papal chair upwards of eleven years,
from 1243 to 1254, appears to have exceeded all
his predecessors in the shamelessness of his abuses.
We are told, that the hierarchy of the church of
England was overwhelmed like a flood with an in-
undation of foreign dignitaries, of whom not a few
were mere boys, for the most part without learn-
ing, ignorant of the language of the island, and
incapable of benefiting the people nominally under
their care, the more especially as they continued
to dwell in their own countries, and scarcely once
in their lives visited the sees to which they had
254 MICHAEL SCOT.
been appointed*. Grosset^te lifted up hi§ voice
against these scandals. He said that it was impos^^
sible the genuine apostolic see, which received its
authority from the Lord Jesus for edification, and
not for destruction, could be guilty of such a crime,
for that would forfeit all its glory, and plunge it
into the pains of hell. He did not scruple there-
fore among his most intimate friends to pronounce
the reigning pope to be the true Antichrist ; and
he addressed the pontiff himself in scarcely more
measured terms.
Among the other accomplishments of bishop
Grosset^te he is said to have been profoundly
skilled in the art of magic : and the old poet Gowei
relates of him that he made a head of brass, ex-
pressly constructed in such a manner as to be abje
to answer such questions as were propounded to
it, and to foretel ftiture events.
MICHAEL SCOT.
Michael Scot of BaJwirie in the county of Fife,
was nearly contemporary with bishop Grossetfete.
He was eminent for his knowledge of the Greek
and Arabic languages. He was patronised by the
emperor Frederic II, who encouraged him to un-
dertake a translation of the works of Aristotle inb>
Latin. He addicted himself to astrology, che-
* Godwin, Praesulibus, art. Crronthead.
THE DEAN OF BADAJOZr ^55
mistry, and the still more frivolous sciences of
chiromancy and physiognomy. It does not ap-
pear that he made any pretences to magic ; but
the vulgar, we are told, generally regarded him as
a sorcerer, and are said to have carried their super-
stition so far as to have conceived a terror of so
much as touching his works.
THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ.
There is a story related by this accomplished
scholar, in a collection of aphorisms and anecdotes
entitled Mensa Phibsophicoy which deserves to be
cited as illustrating the ideas then current on the
subject of sorcery. " A certain great necromancer,
or nigromancer, had once a pupil of considerable
rank, who professed himself extremely desirous for
once to have the gratification of believing himself
an emperor. The necromancer, tired with his im-
portunities, at length assented to his prayer. He
took measures accordingly, and by his potent art
caused his scholar to beUeve that one province and
dignity fell to him after another, till at length his
utmost desires became satisfied. The magician
bowever appeared to be still at his elbow; and
one day, when the scholar was in the higliest ex-
ultation at his good fortune, the master humbly
requested him to bestow upon him some landed
possession, as a reward for the extraordinary be-
nefit he had conferred. The imaginary emperor
256 THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ*
cast upon the necromancer a glance of the utmost
disdain and contempt. " Who are you ?" said he,
" I really have not the smallest acquaintance with
you/' " I am he,** replied the magician, with
withering severity of countenance and tone, " that
gave you all these things, and will take them
away/* And, saying this, the illusion with which
the poor scholar had been inebriated, immediately
vanished ; and he became what he had before been,
and no more.
The story thus briefly told by Michael Scot*
afterwards passed through many hands, and was
greatly dilated. In its last form by the abh6
Blanchet, it constituted the well known and agree-
able tale of the dean of Badajoz. This reverend
divine comes to a sorcerer, and intreats a specimen
of his art. The magician replies that he had met
with so many specimens of ingratitude, that he
was resolved to be deluded no more. The dean
persists, and at length overcomes the reluctance of
the master. He invites his guest into the parlour,
and orders his cook to put two partridges to the
fire, for that the dean of Badajoz will sup with
him. Presently he begins his incantations; and
the dean becomes in imagination by turns a bishop^
a cardinal, and a pope. The magician then claims
his reward. Meanwhile the dean, inflated with his
supposed elevation, turns to his benefactor, and
says, " I have learned with grief that, under pre-
tence of secret science, you correspond with. the
MIRACLE OF THE TUB OF WATER, 257
prince of darkness. I command you to repent and
abjure ; and in the mean time I order you to quit
the territory of the church in three days, under
pain of being delivered to the secular arm, and the
rigour of the flames." The sorcerer, having been
thus treated, presently dissolves the incantation,
and calls aloud to his cook, " Put down but one
partridge, the dean of Badajoz does not sup with
me to-night/'
MIRACLE OF THE TUB OF WATER.
This Story affords an additional example of the
affinity between the ancient Asiatic and European
legends, so as to convince us that it is nearly im-
possible that the one should not be in some way
borrowed from the other. There is, in a compila-
tion called the Turkish Tales, a story of an infidel
sultan of Egypt, who took the liberty before a
learned Mahometan doctor, of ridiculing some of
the miracles ascribed to the prophet, as for ex-
ample his transportation into the seventh heaven,
and having ninety thousand conferences with God,
while in the meem time a pitcher of water, which
had been thrown down in the first step of his as-
cent, was found with the water not all spilled at
his return.
The doctor, who had the gift of working
miracles, told the sultan that, with his consent, he
would give him a practical proof of the possibiUty
s
258 MIRACLE OF THE TUB OF WATER.
of the circumstance related of Mahomet. The
sultan agreed. The doctor therefore directed that
a huge tub of water should be brought in, and,
while the prince stood before it with his courtiers
around, the holy man bade him plunge his head
into the water, and draw it out again. The sultan
immersed his head, and had no sooner done so,
than he found himself alone at the foot of a moun-
tain on a desert shore. The prince first began to
rave against the doctor for this piece of treachery
and witchcraft. Perceiving however that all his
rage was vain, and submitting himself to the
imperiousness of his situation, he began to seek
for some habitable tract. By and by he dis-
covered people cutting down wood in a forest,
and, having no remedy, he was glad to have
recourse to the same employment. In process
of time he was brought to a town ; and there
by great good fortune, after other adventures, he
married a woman of beauty and wealth, and lived
long enough with her, for her to bear hii© seven
sons and seven daughters. He was afterwards re-
duced to want, so as to be obliged to *ply in the
streets as a porter for his livelihood. One d^y, as
he walked alone on the sea-shore, ruminating on
his hard fate, he was seized with a fit of devotion,
and threw off his clothes, that he might wash him-
self, agreeably to the Mahometan custom, pre-
viously to saying his prayers. He had no sooner
however plunged into the sea, and raised his head
INSTITUTION OF FRIARS. 259
again above water, than he found himself standing
by the side of the tub that had been brought in,
with all the great persons of his court round him,
and the holy man close at his side. He found
that the long series of imaginary adventures he had
passed through, had in reality occupied but one
minute of time.
INSTITUTION OF FRIARS.
About this time a great revolution took place in
the state of literature in Europe. The monks,
who at one period considerably contributed to pre-
serve the monuments of ancient learning, me-
morably fell off in reputation and industry. Their
communities by the donations of the pious grew
wealthy; and the monks themselves inhabited
splendid palaces, and became luxurious, dissipated
and idle. Upon the ruins of their good fame rose
a very extraordinary race of men, called Friars.
The monks professed celibacy, and to have no in-
dividual property ; but the friers abjured all pro-
perty, both private and in common. They had
no place where to lay their heads, and subsisted
as mendicants upon the alms of their contempora-
ries. They did not hide themselves in refectories
alid dormitories, but lived perpetually before the
public. In the sequel indeed they built Friaries
for their residence j but these were no less distin-
guished for the simplicity and humbleness of their
s2
260 ALBERTUS MAGNUS.
appearance, than the monasteries were for their
grandeur and almost regal magnificence. The
Friars were incessant in preaching and praying,
voluntarily exposed themselves to the severest
hardships, and were distinguished by a fervour
of devotion and charitable activity that knew no
bounds. We might figure them to ourselves as
swallowed up in these duties. But they added to
their merits an incessant earnestness in learning
and science. A new era in intellect and subtlety
of mind began with them ; and a set of the most
wonderful men in depth of application, logical
acuteness, and discoveries in science distinguished
this period. They were few indeed, in comparison
of the world of ignorance that every where sur-
rounded them ; but they were for that reason only
the more conspicuous. They divided themselves
principally into two orders, the Dominicans and
Franciscans. And all that was most illustrious in
intellect at this period belonged either to the one
or the other.
ALBERTUS MAGNUS.
Albertus Magnus, a Dominican, was one of the
most famous of these. He was bom according to
some accounts in the year 1193> and according to
others in 1205. It is reported of him, that he was
naturally very dull, and so incapable of instruction,
that he was on the point of quitting the cloister
ALBERTUS MAGNUS. 261
from despair of learning what his vocation requir-
ed, when the blessed virgin appeared to him in a
vision, and enquired of him in which he desired to
excel, philosophy or divinity; He chose philoso-
phy ; and the virgin assured him that he should
become incomparable in that, but, as a punish-
ment for not having chosen divinity, he should
sink, before he died, into his former stupidity. It
is added that, after this apparition, he had an in-
finite deal of wit, and advanced in science with so
rapid a progress as utterly to astonish the masters.
He afterwards became bishop of Ratisbon.
It is related of Albertus,'that he made an entire
man of brass, putting together its limbs under
various constellations, and occupying no less than
thirty years in its formation. This man would an-
swer all sorts of questions, and was even employed
by its maker as a domestic. But what is more ex-
traordinary, this machine is said to have become at
length so garrulous, that Thomas Aquinas, being
a pupil of Albertus, and finding himself perpetu-
ally disturbed in his abstrusest speculations by its
uncontrolable loquacity, in a rage caught up a
hammer, and beat it to pieces. According to other
accounts the man of Albertus Magnus was com-
posed, not of metal, but of flesh and bones like
other men ; but this being afterwards judged to be
impossible, and the virtue of images, rings, and
planetary sigils being in great vogue, it was con-
ceived that this figure was formed of brass, and in-
262 ALBERTUS MAGNUS.
debted for its virtue to certain conjunctions and
aspects of the planets'.
A further extraordinary story is told of Albertus
Magnus, well calculated to exemplify the ideas of
magic with which these ages abounded. William,
earl of Holland, and king of the Romans, was ex-
pected at a certain time to pass through Cologne;
Albertus had set his heart upon obtaining from
this prince the cession of a certain tract of land
upon which to erect a convent. The better to
succeed in his application he conceived the follow-
ing scheme. He invited the prince on his jour-
ney to partake of a magnificent entertainment.
To the surprise of every body, when the prince
arrived, he found the preparations for the banquet
spread in the open air. It was in the depth of
winter, when the earth was bound up in frost, and
the whole face of things was covered with snow.
The attendants of the court were mortified, and
began to express their discontent in loud murmurs.
No sooner however was the king with Albertus
and his courtiers seated at table, than the snow in-
stantly disappeared, the temperature of summer
shewed itself, and the sun burst forth with a
dazzling splendour. The ground became covered
with the richest verdure ; the trees were clothed
at once with foliage, flowers and fruits : and a vin-
tage of the richest grapes, accompanied with a
ravishing odour, invited the spectators to partake.
^ ^ Naude, c. 18.
ROGER BACON. 263
A thousand birds sang on every branch. A train
of pages shewed themselves, fresh and graceful in
person and attire, and were ready diligently to
supply the wants of all, while every one was struck
with astonishment as to who they were and from
whence they came* The guests were obliged to
throw off their upper garments the better to cool
themselves. The whole assembly was delighted
with their entertainment, and Albertus easily gain-
ed his suit of the king. Presently after, the ban-
quet disappeared ; all was wintry and solitary as
before ; the snow lay thick upon the ground ; and
the guests in all haste snatched tip the garments
they had laid aside, and hurried into the apart-
ments, that by numerous fires on the blazing hearth
they might counteract the dangerous chill which
threatened to seize on their limbs\
ROGER BACON.
Roger Bacon, of whom extraordinary stories of
magic have been told, and who was about twenty
years younger than Albertus, was one of the rarest
geniuses that have existed on earth. He was a
Franciscan friar. He wrote graraimars of the Latin,
Greek and Hebrew languages. He was profound
in the science of optics. He explained the nature
of burning-glasses, and of glasses which magnify
and diminish, the microscope and the telescope.
^ Johannes de Becka, apud Trithemii Chronica, ann. 1254.
264 ROGER BACON.
He discovered the composition of gunpowder. He
ascertained the true length of the solar year ; and
his theory was afterwards brought into general use,
but upon a narrow scale, by Pope Gregory XIH,
nearly three hundred years after his death*.
But for all these discoveries he underwent a
series of the most bitter persecutions. It was im-
puted to him by the superiors of his order that
the improvements he suggested in natural philoso-
phy were the effects of magic, and were suggested
to him through an intercourse with infernal spirits.
They forbade him to communicate any of his spe-
culations. They wasted his frame with rigorous
fasting, often restricting him to a diet of bread and
water, and prohibited all strangers to have access
to him. Yet he went on indefatigably in pursuit
of the secrets of nature\ At length Clement IV,
to whom he appealed, procured him a considera-
ble degree of liberty. But, after the death of that
pontiff, he was again put under confinement, and
continued in that state for a further period of ten
years. He was liberated but a short time before
his death.
Freind says% that, among other ingenious con-
trivances, he put statues in motion, and drew arti-
culate sounds from a brazen head, not however by
magic, but by an artificial application of the prin-
ciples of natural philosophy. This probably fur-
» Freind, History of Physick, Vol. II, p. 234 to 239.
•» Bacon, Epist. ad Clement. IV. ^ Ubi supra.
ROGER BACON. 265
nished a foundation for the tale of Friar Bacon and
Friar Bungy, which was one of the earliest pro-
ductions to which the art of printing was applied
in England. These two persons are said to have
entertained the project of inclosing England with
a wall, so as to render it inaccessible to any in-
vader. They accordingly raised the devil, as the
person best able to inform them how this was to be
done. The devil advised them to make a brazen
head, with' all the internal structure and organs of
a human head. The construction would cost them
much time ; and they must then wait with patience
till the faculty of speech descended upon it. It
would finely however become an oracle, and, if
the question were propounded to it, would teach
them the solution of their problem. The friars
spent seven years in bringing the structure to per-
fection, and then waited day after day, in expec-
tation that it would utter articulate sounds. At
length nature became exhausted in them, and they
lay down to sleep, having first given it strictly in
charge to a servant of theirs, clownish in nature,
but of strict fidelity, that he should awaken them
the moment the image began to speak. That pe-
riod arrived. The head uttered sounds, but such
as the clown judged unworthy of notice. " Time
is 1" it said. No notice was taken ; and a long
pause ensued* " Time was I*' A similar pause,
and no notice. *^ Time is passed 1*' And the mo-
ment these words were uttered, a tremendous
266 THOMAS AQUINAS.
Storm ensued, with thunder and lightning, arid the
head was shivered into a thousand pieces. Thus
the experiment of friar Bacon and friar Bungy
came to noticing.
THOMAS AQUINAS.
Thomas Aquinas, who has likewise been brought
under the imputation of magic, was one of the pro-
foundest jscholars and subtlest logicians of his day.
He al30}fiirnishes a remarkable instance of the as-
cendant which the friars at that time obtained over
the minds of ingenuous young men smitten with
the thirst of knowledge. He was a youth of illus-
trious birth, and received the rudiments of his
education under the monks of Monte Cassino, and
in the university of Naples. But, not contented
with these advantages, he secretly entered himself
into the society of Preaching Friars, or Dominicans,
at seventeen years of age. His mother, being in-
dignant that he should thus take the vow of po-
verty, and sequester himself from the world for
life, employed every means in her power to induce
him to alter his purpose, but in vain. The friars,
to deliver him from her importunities, removed
him from Naples to Ti^racina, from Terracina to
Anagnia, and from Anagnia to Rome. His mo-
ther followed him in all these changes of residence,
but was not permitted so much as to see him. At
length she. spirited up his two elder brothers to
THOMAS AQUINAS, 267
seize him by force. They waylaid him in his road
to Paris, whither he was sent to complete his course
of instruction, and carried hun oflF to the castle of
Aquino where he had been bom. Here he was
confined for two years; but he found a way to
correspond with the superiors of his order, and
finally escaped from a window in the castle. St.
Thomas Aquinas (for he was canonised after his
death) exceeded perhaps all men that ever existed
in the severity and strictness of his metaphysical
disquisitions, and thus acquired the name of the
Seraphic Doctor.
It was to be expected that a man, who thus im-
mersed himself in the depths of thought, should be
an inexorable enemy to noise and interruption.
We have seen that he dashed to pieces the arti-
ficial man of brass, that Albertus Magnus, who
was his tutor, had spent thirty years in bringing to
perfection, being impelled to this violence by its
perpetual and unceasing garrulity*. It is further
said, that his study being placed in a great tho-
roughfare, where the grooms were all day long ex-
ercising their horses, he fotlnd it necessary to apply
a remedy to this nuisance. He made by the laws
of magic a small horse of brass, which he buried
two or three feet under ground in the midst of this
highway; and, having done so, no horse would 4**^'
any longer pass along the road. It was in vain
that the grooms with whip and spur sought to con*
» See page 261.
268 PETER OF APONO.
quer their repugnance. They were finally com-
pelled to give up the attempt, and to choose an-
other place for their daily exercise".
It has further been sought to fix the imputation
of magic upon Thomas Aquinas by imputing to
him certain books written on that science; but
, these are now acknowledged to be spurious**.
PETER OF APONO.
Peter of Apono, so called from a village of that
name in the vicinity of Padua, where he was bom
in the year 1250, was an eminent philosopher, ma-
thematician and astrologer, but especially excelled
in physic. Finding that science at a low ebb in
his native country, he resorted to Paris, where it
especially flourished ; and after a time returning
home, exercised his art with extraordinary success,
and by this means accumulated great wealth.
But all his fame and attainments were poisoned
to him by the accusation of magic. Among other
things he was said to possess seven spirits, each of
them inclosed in a crystal vessel, from whom he
received every in/ormation he desired in the seven
liberal arts. He was further reported to have had
the extraordinary faculty of causing the money he
expended in his disbursements, immediately to
come back into his own purse. He was besides of
a hasty and revengeftil temper. In consequence of
<• Naude, Cap. 17. * Ibid.
ENGLISH LAW OF HIGH TREASON. 2t)9
this it happened to him, that, having a neighbour,
who had an admirable spring of water in his garden,
and who was accustomed to suffer the physician to
send for a daily supply, but who for some displea-
sure or inconvenience withdrew his permission,
Peter d*Apono, by the aid of the devil, removed
the spring from the garden in which it had flowed,
and turned it to waste in the public street. For
some of these accusations he was called to account
by the tribunal of the inquisition. While he was
upon his trial however, the unfortunate man died.
But so unfavourable was the judgment of the in-
quisitors respecting him, that they decreed that his
bones should be dug up, and publicly burned.
Some of his friends got intimation of this, and saved
him from the impending disgrace by removing his
remains. Disappointed in this, the inquisitors pro-
ceeded to burn him in efiigy.
ENGLISH LAW OF HIGH TREASON.
It may seem strange that in a treatise concerning
necromancy we should have occasion to speak of
the English law of high treason. ^ But on reflection
perhaps it may appear not altogether ^ien to the
subject. This crime is ordinarily considered by
our lawyers as limited and defined by the statute of
25 Edward III. As Blackstone has observed, " By
the ancient common law there was a great latitude
left in the breast of the judges, to determine what
270 ENGLISH LAW OF HIGH TREASON.
was treason, or not so : whereby the creatures of
tyrannical power had opportunity to create abun-
dance of constructive treasons ; that is, to raise,
by forced and arbitrary constructions, offences
into the crime and punishment of treason, which
were neve r suspected to be such. To prevent
these inconveniences, the statute of 25 Edward III
was made*.'' This statute divides treason into
seven distinct branches ; and the first and chief of
these is, ** when a man doth compass or imagine
the death of our lord the king.'*
Now the first circumstance that strikes us in this
affair is, why the crime was not expressed in more
perspicuous and appropriate language ? Why, for
example, was it not said, that the first and chief
branch of treason was to " kill the king ?" Or, if
that limitation was not held to be suflSciently ample,
could it not have been added, it is treason to ** at-
tempt, intend, or contrive to kill the king ?" We
are apt to make much too large an allowance for
what is considered as the vague and obsolete lan-
guage of our ancestors. Logic was the element in
which the scholars of what are called the dark ages
were especially at home. It was at that period
that the description of human geniuses, called the
Schoolmen, principally flourished. The writers
who preceded the Christian era, possessed in an
extraordinary degree the gift of imagination and
invention. But they had little to boast on the
a Commentaries, Book IV. chap. vi.
ENOLISH LAW OF HIGH TREASON. 271
score of arrangement, and discovered little skill in
the strictness < of an accurate deduction. Mean-
while the Schoolmen had a surprising subtlety in
weaving the web of an argument, and arriving by
a close deduction, through a multitude of steps, to
a sound and irresistible conclusion. Our lawyers
to a certain degree formed themselves on the dis-
cipline of the Schoolmen. Nothing can be more
forcibly contrasted, than the mode of pleading
among the ancients, and that which has charac-
terised the processes of the moderns. The plead-
ings of the ancients were praxises of the art of
oratorical persuasion ; the pleadings of the moderns
sopaetimes, though rarely, deviate into oratory, but
principally consist in dextrous subtleties upon
wordg^ or a nice series of deductions, the whole
contexture of which is endeavoured to be woven
into one indissoluble substance. Several striking
examples have been preserved of the mode of
pleading in the reign of Edward II, in which the
exceptions taken for the defendant, and the replies
supporting the mode of proceeding on behalf of
the plaintiff, in no respect fall short of the most
admired shifts, quirks and subtleties of the great
lawyers of later times^.
It would be certainly wrong therefore to con-
sider the legal phrase, to ** compass or imagine the
death of the king,*' as meaning the same thing as
to " kill, or intend to kill'' him. At all events we
may take it for granted^ that to ** compass" does not
Life of Chaucer, c. xviii.
272 ENGLISH LAW OF HIGH TREASON.
mean to accomplish ; but rather to " take in hand,
to go about to eflFect/' There is therefore no form
of words here forbidding to " kill the king/' The
phrase, to " imagine/* does not appear less start-
ling. What is, to a proverb, more lawless than
imagination ?
Evil into the mind of God or man
May come and go, so unapproved, and leave
No spot or blame behind.
What can be more tyrannical, than an inquisition
into the sports and freaks of fancy ? What more
unsusceptible of detection or evidence? How
many imperceptible shades of distinction between
the guilt and innocence that characterise them ! —
Meanwhile the force and propriety of these terms
will strikingly appear, if we refer them to the
popular ideas of witchcraft. Witches were under-
stood to have the power of destroying life, without
the necessity of approaching the person whose life
was to be destroyed, or producing any conscious-
ness in him of the crime about to be perpetrated.
One method was by exposing an image of wax to
the action of fire ; while, in proportion as the
image wasted away, the life of the individual who
was the object contrived against, was undermined
and destroyed. Another was by incantations
and spells. Either of these might fitly be called
the " compassing or imagining the death.'' Ima-
gination is, beside this, the peculiar province of
witchcraft. And in these pretended hags the
faculty is no longer desultory and erratic. Con-
ZIITO. 27s
scious of their power, they are supposed to have
subjected it to system and discipline. They apply
its secret and trackless energy with an intentness
and a vigour, which ordinary mortals may in vain
attempt to emulate in an application of the force
of inert matter, or of the different physical powers
by means of which such stupendous effects have
often been produced How universal and familiar
then must we consider the idea3 of witchcraft to
have been before language which properly de-
scribes the secret practices of such persons, and is
not appropriate to any other, could have been
found to insinuate itself into the structure of the
most solemn act of our legislature, that act which
beyond all others was intended to narrow or shut
out the subtle and dangerous inroads of arbitrary
power !
ZIITO.
Very extraordinary things are related of Ziito,
a sorcerer, in the court of Wenceslaus, king of
Bohemia and afterwards emperor of Germany, in
the latter part of the fourteenth century. This is
perhaps, all things considered, the most wonderful
specimen of magical power any where to be found-
It is gravely recorded by Dubravius, bishop of
Olmutz, in his History of Bohemia. It was pub-*
licly exhibited on occasion of the marriage of
Wenceslaus with Sophia, daughter of the elector
276 ziiTo.
sidence of one Michael, a rich dealer, but who was
remarked for being penurious and thrifty in his
bargains. He offered them to Michael for what-
ever price he should judge reasonable. The bargain
was presently struck, Ziito at the same time warn-
ing the purchaser, that he should on no account
drive them to the river to drink. Michael how-
ever paid no attention to this advice ; and the
hogs no sooner arrived at the river, than they
turned into grains of corn as before. The dealer,
greatly enraged at this trick, sought high and
low for the seller that he might be revenged on
him. At length he found him in a vintner's shop
seemingly in a gloomy ai^d absent frame of mind,
reposing himself, with his legs stretched out on a
form. The dealer called out to him, but he
seemed not to hear. Finally he seized Ziito by one
foot, plucking at it with all his might. The foot
came away with the leg and thigh; and Ziito
screamed out, apparently in great agony. He
seized Michael by the nape of the neck, and
dragged him before a judge. Here the two set up
their separate complaints, Michael for the fraud
that had been committed on him, and Ziito for the
irreparable injury he had suffered in his person.
From this adventure came the proverb, frequent in
thei days of the historian, speaking of a person
who had made an improvident bargain, ** He has
made just such a purchase as Michael did with biB
hogs.**
TRANSMUTATION OF METALS. 277
TRANSMUTATION OF METALS.
Among the different pursuits, which engaged
the curiosity of active minds in these unenlightened
ages, was that of the transmutation of the more
ordinary metals into gold and silver. This art,
though not properly of necromantic nature, was
however elevated by its professors, by means of an
imaginary connection between it and astrology, and
even between it and an intercourse with invisible
spirits. They believed, that their investigations
could not be successfully prosecuted but under fii-
vourable aspects of the planets, and that it was even
indispensible to them to obtain supernatural aid.
In proportion as the pursuit of transmutation,
and the search after the eUxir of immortality grew
into vogue, the adepts became desirous of invest*
ing them with the venerable garb of antiquity.
They endeavoured to carry up the study to the
time of Solomon ; and there were not wanting some
who imputed it to the first father of mankind.
They were desirous to track its footsteps in An-
cient Egypt ; and they found a mythological re-
presentation of it in the expedition of Jason after
the golden fleece, and in the cauldron by which
Medea restored the father of Jason to his original
youth*. But, as has already been said, the first
unquestionable mention of the subject is to be re-
ferred to the time of Dioclesian\ From that pe-
* Wotton, Reflections on Learning, Chap. X.
*» See above, p. 29.
^8 EAYJtfpND LVL?^I-
riod traces of the studies of the alchemists from
time to time regidarly discover themselves.
The sti;4y pf chemistry and lU suppps^ iflVftlu-
^ble result;s was aissiduQusly cultiyatec} fcy Q^h^x
^nd t;he Ai^bi^ns.
ARTEPHIUS.
Art:ephiu8 ip pile pf the ^rU^st pame? th^t
Qcicuf ^mpng the students who sppght the pbilp-
i^opher's jstqne. Of him extraprdipajy things aye
tpjd. He lived ^boqt the ye^^r 113P> ftpd w^ot^ a,
hoqk pf the Art pf Prolonging Huipan Lifp, iij
which he professes tp ha,ye fJre84y a,ttained the age
pf one thousand and twenty-five year§*. JJe must
by this account hp.ve been bom about pne hundred
years after our Saviour. He professed to have visits
ed the infernal regions, aud there to have seen Tan-»
talus seated pn a throne of gpld, IJe is al?Q said
hy some to be the sainP person, whose life ha^ been
written by Philostratus under the naine pf Apol-»
Ipnius of Tyana\ He wjrpte a hopjc pn the philo-
sopher's stone, which was published iu J^ft^n and
French at F^ris jn the year 16J2.
RAYMOND LULLI.
Among the Eurppean students^ pf these interest-,
ing secrets a fore.mpst place is tp be apsign^ to
Raymond Lulli and Arnold of Villeneuve.
* Biographie Universelle. *> Naude.
RAYMOND LULLI. 279
Lulli was undoubtedly a man endowed in a very
eminent degree with the powers of intellect. He
was a native of the island of Majorca, and was
bom in the year 1234. He is said to have passed
his early years in profligacy and dissipation, but to
have been reclaimed by the accident of falling in
love with a young woman afflicted with a cancer.
This circumstance induced him to apply himself
intently to the study of chemistry and medicine,
with a view to discover a cure for her complaint,
in which he succeeded. He afterwards entered
into the community of Franciscan friars.
Edward the First was one of the most extraor-
dinary princes that ever sat on a throne. He re-
vived the study of the Roman civil law with such
success as to have merited the title of the Eng-
lish Justinian. He was no less distinguished as
the patron of arts and letters. He invited to.
England Guido dalla Colonna, the author of the
Troy Book, and Raymond Lulli. This latter was
believed in his time to have prosecuted his studies
with such success as to have discovered the elixir
mtcBj by means of which he could keep off the
assaults of old age, at least for centuries, and
the philosopher's stone. He is affirmed by these
means to have supplied to Edward the First six*
millions of money, to enable him to carry on war
against the Turks.
But he was not only indefatigable in the pursuit
of natural science. He was also seized with an in-
28Q RAYMOND LULLI.
vincible desire to convert the Mahometans to the
Christian faith. For this purpose he entered ear-
nestly upon the study of the Oriental languages.
He endeavoured to prevail on different princes of
Europe to concur in his plan, and to erect colleges
for the purpose, but without success. He at length
set out alone upon his enterprise, but met with
small encouragement. He penetrated into Africa
and Asia. He made few converts, and was with
difficulty suffered to depart, under a solemn injunc-
tion that he should not return. But Lulli chose to
obey God rather than man, and ventured a second
time. The Mahometans became exasperated with
his obstinacy, and are said to have stoned bin*
to death at the age of eighty years. His body
was however transported to his native place ; and
miracles are reported to have been worked at his
tomb*.
Raymond Lulli is beside famous for what he was
pleased to style his Great Art. The ordinary ac-
counts however that are given of this art assume
a style of burlesque, rather than of philosophy.
He is said to have boasted that by means of it he
could enable any one to argue logically on any
subject for a whole day together, independently
of any previous study of the subject in debate. To
the details of the process Swift seems to have been
indebted for one of the humorous projects describ-
ed by him in his voyage to Laputa. Lulli recom-
•■Moreri.
ARNOLD OF VILLENEUVE. 281
mended that certain general terms of logic, meta-
physics, ethics or theology should first be collected*.
These were to be inscribed separately upon square
pieces of parchment. They were then to be placed
on a frame so constructed that by turning a handle
they might revolve freely, and form endless com-
binations. One term would stand for a subject,
and another for a predicate. The student was then
diligently to inspect the different combinations
that fortuitously arose, and exercising the subtlety
of his faculties to select such as he should find best
calculated for his purposes. He would thus carry
on the process of his debate; and an extraordi-
nary felicity would occasionally arise, suggesting
the most ingenious hints, and leading on to the
most important discoveries^. — If a man with the
eminent faculties which Lulli otherwise appeared
to have possessed really laid down the rules of
such an art, all he intended by it must have been
to satirize the gravity with which the learned doc-
tors of his time carried on their grave disputa-
tions in mood and figure, having regard only to
the severity of the rule by which they debated,
and holding themselves totally indifferent whether
they made any real advances in the discovery of
truth.
ARNOLD OF VILLENEUVE.
Arnold of Villeneuve, who lived about the same
time, was a man of eminent attainments. He
*» Enfield, History of Philosophy, Book VIII, chapter i.
^^ LAWS ra^^CTINa TRANSMUTATION.
mwlfr a grwt proficiency in Greek, Hebrew, and
Arabic* He devoted hitnuelf in a high. degree to
a^trplpgy, md was so confident hi his art, as to
v^ntore to predict that the end of the world would
occur in a few years ; but he lived to witness the
&llaciousness of his prophecy. He had much re^
putation as a physician. He appears to have been
a bold thinker* He maintained that deeds of
charity were of more avail than the sacrifice of the
ma^, ai^d that no one would be damned hereafter,
but such as were proved to afibrd an example of
iminoral conduct* Like all the men of these times
who were distinguish^ by the profoundness of
their studies, he was accused of magic. For this,
or upon ft chw^e of heresy, he was brought un-
der the prosecution of the inquisition. But he
waP alarmed by the fete of Peter of Apono, and
by recantation or some other mode of prudent con-
trivance was fortunate enough to escape. He is
one of the persons to whom the writing of the
bo^k, De Tribus ImpastoribttSf Of the Three Im-
postons (Moses, Jesus Christ and Mahomet) was
imputed I* •
ENGLISH LAWS RESPECTING TRANSMUTATION.
So great an alarm was conceived about this time
respecting the art of transmutation, that an act of
parliament was passed in the fifth year of Henry
ly, 1404, which lord Coke states as the shortest
LAWS RESPECTING TRANSMUTATION. 283
of our Statutes, determining that the making of
gold or silver shall be deemed felony. This law
is said to have resulted from the fear at that time
entertained by the houses of lords and commons,
lest the executive power, finding itself by these
means enabled to increase the revenue of the crown
to any degree it pleased, should disdain to ask aid
from the legislature ; and in consequence should
degenerate into tyranny and arbitrary power*.
George Ripley, of Ripley in the county of
York, is mentioned, towards the latter part of the
fifteenth century, as having discovered the philoso-
pher's stone, and by its means contributed one
hundred thousand pounds to the knights of Rhodes,
the better to enable them to carry on their war
against the Turks\
About this time however the tide appears to
have turned, and the alarm respecting the multi-
plication of the precious metals so greatly to have
abated, that patents were issued in the thirty-fifth
year of Henry VI, for the encouragement of such
as were disposed to seek the universal medicine,
and to endeavour th^ transmutation of inferior
metals into gold^
* Watson^ Chemical Essays, Vol. I.
^ Fuller, Worthies of England.
« Watson, ubi supra.
285
REVIVAL OF LETTERS.
While these things were going on m Europe,
the period was gradually approaching, when the
energies of the human mind were to loosen its
shackles, and its independence was ultimately to
extinguish those delusions and that superstition
which had so long enslaved it. Petrarch, bom in
the year 1804, was deeply impregnated with a pas-
sion for classical lore, was smitten with the love of
republican institutions, and especially distinguished
himself for an adoration of Homer. Dante, a more
sublime and original genius than Petrarch, was his
contemporary. About the same time Boccaccio in
his Decamerone gave at once to Italian prose that
purity and grace, which none of his successors in
the career of literature have ever been able to
excel. And in our own island Chaucer with a
daring hand redeemed his native tongue from the
disuse and ignominy into which it had fallen, and
poured out the immortal strains that the genuine
lovers of the English tongue have ever since pe-
rused with delight, while those who are discou-
raged by its apparent crabbedness, have yet grown
familiar with his thoughts in the smoother and more
modem versification of Dryden and Pope. From
that time the principles of true taste have been
^6 JOAN OP ARC.
more or less cultivated, while with equal career
independence of thought and an ardent spirit of
discovery have continually proceeded, and made a
rapid advance towards the perfect day.
But the dawn of literature and intellectual free-
j(k>m were still a long time ere th^ pr<^duced
their full effect* The remnant of the old womM
clung to the heaort with a tefiadous %mhtdce. Thf e^
or four cdiituries eliqised, whU^ y^t the belief ki
BOTC^ry and witc^hcraft wa&i alive in certain dlaisses
of society. And then, as is ^pt to oct^t in sudl
cases, the expiring folly oo^iondly gav^ toki^ttil
of its existence with a convuMve vehem^h^^ ktA
bedame only the more picturesque and impti^ii^V^
through the strong contrast &f lights and shctdoWs
that attended it» msunifbfiftationsw
JOAN OF ARC.
One of tb^ most memorlil^ie i^tdjt'iei^ ofl r^ddrd is
that of J^n of Ard, commonly dalted the Maid of
Orlemd. Henty the Fifth of England w<m thte
decisive battle of AgiUcourt in the yesur 1415, and
«ome time after concluded d treaty with the reign-
ing king of France, by Ivhidh he was tecognised,
in case of that king*i^ death, as heir to thfe th^cniCi
Henry V died in the year 1422> and ChetfleS VI
of France in less than two months after^ Henry
VI was only nine monthis did at the time of his
father'fr death } but such wad the depldrdble state
JOAN OF ARC. 287
of France) that he was in the same yedr prdclahned
king in Paris, and fdr some years seemed to have
every prospect of a fortunate reign- John duke
of Bedford) the kinged uncle, was declared regent
of France : the smi of Charles VI was reduced to
the last extremity; Orleans was the last strong
town in the heart of the kingdom which held out
in his favour ; and that place seemed on the point
to surrender to the conqueror*
In thi^ fearful crisis appealed Joan of Arc, and
in the most incredible manner turned the whole
tide of afikirsv She was a servant in a poor inn at
Domremi, and was accustomed to perform the
coarsest offices, and in particular to ride the horses
to a neighbouring stream to water* Of course the
' situation of France and her hereditary king formed
the universal subject of conversation ; and Joan
became deeply impressed with the lamentable state
of her country and the misfortunes of her king.
By dint of perpetual meditation, and feeling in her
breast the promptings of energy and enterprise,
she conceived the idea that she was destined by
heaven to be the deliverer of France. Agreeably
to the state of intellectual knowledge at that period,
she persuaded herself that she saw visions, and
held communication with the saints. She had con-
versations with St* Margaret, and St. Catherine of
Fierbois. They told her that she was commissioned
by God to raise the siege of Orleans, and to con-
duct Charles VII to his coronation at Rheims.
288 JOAN OF ARC.
St Catherine commanded her to demand a sword
which was in her church at Fierbois, which the
Maid described by particular tokens, though she
had never seen it. She then presented herself to
Baudricourt, governor of the neighbouring town
of Vaucouleurs, telling him her commission, and
requiring him to send her to the king at Chinon.
Baudricourt at first made light of her application ;
but her importunity and the ardour she expressed
at length excited him.' He put on her a man's
attire, gave her arms, and sent her under an escort
of two gentlemen and their attendants to Chinon,
Here she immediately addressed the king in per-
son, who had purposely hid himself behind his
courtiers that she might not know him. She then
delivered her message, and offered in the name of
the Most High to raise the siege of Orleans, and
conduct king Charles to Rheims to be anointed.
As a further confirmation she is said to have re-
vealed to the king before a few select friends, a
secret, which nothing but divine inspiration could
have discovered to her.
Desperate as was then the state of afiairs, Charles
and his ministers immediately resolved to seize the
occasion that offered, and put forward Joan as an
instrument to revive the prostrate courage of his
subjects. He had no sooner determined on this,
than he pretended to submit the truth of her
mission to the most rigorous trial. He called to-
gether an assembly of theologians and doctors.
JOAN OF ARC. 289
who rigorously examined Joan, and pronounced
in her favour. He referred the question to the
parliament of Poitiers ; and they, who met per-
suaded that she was an impostor, became con-
vinced of her inspiration. She was mounted on a
high-bred steed, furnished with a consecrated ban-
ner, and marched, escorted by a body of five thou-
sand men, to the relief of Orleans. The French,
strongly convinced by so plain an interposition of
heaven, resumed the courage to which they had
long been strangers. Such a phenomenon was
exactly suited to the superstition and credulity of
the age. The English were staggered with the
rumours that every where went before her, and
struck with a degree of apprehension and terror
that they could not shake off. The garrison, in-
formed of her approach, made a sally on the other
side of the town ; and Joan and her convoy, entered
without opposition. She displayed her standard
in the market-place, and was received as a celestial
deliverer.
She appears to have been endowed with a pru-
dence, not inferior to her courage and spirit of
enterprise. With great docility she caught the
hints of the commanders by whom she was sur-
rounded J and, convinced of her own want of ex-
perience and skill, delivered them to the forces as
the dictates of heaven. Thus the knowledge and
discernment of the generals were brought into
play, at the same time that their suggestions ac-
u
290 JOAN OF ARC.
quired new weight, when felUng from the lips of
the heaven-instructed heroine. A second convoy
arrived ; the waggons and troops passed between
the redoubts of the English ; while a dead silence
and astonishment reigned among the forces, so
lately enterprising and resistless. Joan now called
on the garrison no longer to stand upon the defen-
sive, but boldly to attack the army of the besiegers.
She took one redoubt and then another. The
English, overwhelmed with amazement, scarcely
dared to lift a hand against her. Their veteran
generals became spell-bound and powerless ; and
their soldiers were driven before the prophetess
like a flock of sheep. The siege was raised.
Joan followed the English garrison to a fortified
town which they fixed on as their place of retreat.
The siege lasted ten days ; the place was taken ;
and all the English within it made prisoners. The
late victorious forces now concentred themselves
at Patay in the Orleanois ; Joan advanced to meet
them. The battle lasted not a moment ; it was
rather a flight than a combat ; Fastolfe, one of the
bravest of our commanders, threw down his arms,
and ran for his life ; Talbot and Scales, the other
generals, were made prisoners. The siege of Or-
leans was raised on the eighth of May, 1429 }
the battle of Patay was fought on the tenth of the
following month. Joan was at this time twenty-
two years of age.
This extraordinary turn having been given to
JOAN OJ- ARC. 291
the affkirs of th^ kingdom, Joan next insisted
that the king should inarch to RheiftlS, in order to
his being crowned. Rheims lay in a direction ex-
pressly through the midst of the enemies* garri-
sons. But every thing yielded to the marvellous
fortune that attended upon the heroine. Troyes
opened its gates j Chalons followed the example ;
Rheims sent a deputation with the keys of the
city, which met Charles on his march. The pro-
posed solemnity took place amidst the extacies and
enthusiastic shouts of his people. It was no sooner
over, than Joan stept forward. She said, she had
now petformed the whole of what God had com-
missioned her to do ; she was satisfied ; she in-
treated the king to dismiss her to the obscurity
from which she had sprung.
The ministers and generals of France however
found Joan tod useful an instrument, to be willing
to part with her thus early ; and she yielded to
their earnest expostulations. Under her guidance
they assailed Laon, Soissons, Chateau Thierry,
Provins, and many other places, and took them
one after another. She threw herself into Com-
piegne, which was besieged by the Duke of Bui"-
gundy in conjunction with certain English com-
manders. The day after her arrival she headed a
sally against the enemy ; twice she repelled them j
but, finding their numbers increase every moment
with fresh reinforcements, she directed a retreat.
Twice she returned upon her pursuers, and made
u 2
292 JOAN OF ARC,
them recoil, the third time she was less fortunate.
She found herself alone, surrounded with the ene-
my ; and after having enacted prodigies of valour,
she was compelled to surrender a prisoner. This
happened on the twenty-fifth of May, 1430.
It remained to be determined what should be
the fate of this admirable woman. Both friends
and enemies agreed that her career had been at-
tended with a supernatural power. The French,
who were so infinitely indebted to her achieve-
ments, and who owed the sudden and glorious re-
verse of their affairs to her alone, were convinced
that she was immediately commissioned by God,
and vied with each other in reciting the miracu-
lous phenomena which marked every step in her
progress. The English, who saw all the victorious
acquisitions of Henry V crumbling from their
grasp, were equally impressed with the manifest
miracle, but imputed all her good-fortune to a
league with the prince of darkness. They said
that her boasted visions were so many delusions of
the devil. They determined to bring her to trial
for the tremendous crimes of sorcery and witch-
craft. They believed that, if she were once con-
victed and led out to execution, the prowess and
valour which had hitherto marked their progress
would return to them, and that they should obtain
the same superiority over their disheartened foes.
The devil, who had hitherto been her constant
ally, terrified at the spectacle of the flames that
JOAN OF ARC. 293
consumed her, would instantly return to the in-
fernal regions, and leave the field open to English
enterprise and energy, and to the interposition of
God and his saints.
An accusation was prepared against her, and all
the solemnities of a public trial were observed.
But the proofs were so weak and unsatisfactory,
and Joan, though oppressed and treated with the
utmost severity, displayed so much acuteness and
presence of mind, that the court, not venturing to
proceed to the last extremity, contented them-
selves with sentencing her to perpetual imprison-
ment, and to be allowed no other nourishment than
bread and water for life. Before they yielded to
this mitigation of punishment, they caused her to
sign with her mark a recantation of her oflTences.
She acknowledged that the enthusiasm that had
guided her was an illusion, and promised never
more to listen to its suggestions.
The hatred of her enemies however was not yet
appeased. They determined in some way to en-
trap her. They had clothed her in a female garb j
they insidiously laid in her way the habiliments of
a man. The fire smothered in the bosom of the
maid, revived at the sight j she was alone ; she
caught up the garments, and one by one adjusted
them to her person. Spies were set upon her to
watch for this event ; they burst into the apart-
ment. What she had done was construed into no
less offence than that of a relapsed heretic ; there
^&4f ELEANOR CO^IiAM.
wfis no more pardon for such confirmed delin-
quency ; she was brought out to be burned alive
in the market-place of Rouen, imd she died, era-
bracing a crucifix, and in her la^t moments calling
upon the name of Jesus. A few days more than
twelve months, had elapsed between the period of
her first captivity and her execution.
ELEANOR COBHAM, DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER.
This was a period in which the ideas of witch-
craft had caught fast hold of the rninds of man-
kind; and those accusations, which by the en-
lightened p^urt of the species would now be regarded
as worthy only of contempt, were then considered
as charges of the most flaiigious nature. While
John, duke of Bedford, the eldest uncle of king
tJ^nry VI, was regent of Frs^nce, Humphrey of
Gloucester, next brother to Bedford* was lord pro-
tector of the realm of England. Though Henry
was now nineteen years of age, yet, as he was a
prince of slender capacity, Humphrey still con-
tinued to discharge the functions of sovereignty.
He was emijieutly endowed with popular quali-
ties, and was a favourite with the majority of the
nation. He had however many enemies, one of the
chief of whom was Hetiry Beaufort, great-uncle
to the king, and cardinal erf Winchester. One of
the means employed by this prelate to undermine
the power of Humphrey, consisted in a charge
£LJe:ANQR COBHAM. 295
of witchcraft brought against Eleanor Gobham, his
wife.
This woman had probably yielded to the delu-
sions, which artful persons, who saw into the weak-
ness of her character, sought to practise upon her.
She was the second wife of Humphrey, and he was
suspected to have indulged in undue familiarity
with her, before he was a widower. His present
duchess was reported to have had recourse to
witchcraft in the first instance, by way of securing
his wayward inclinations. The duke of Bedford
had died in 1435 ; and Humphrey now, in addi-
tion to the actual exercise of the powers of sove-
reigny, was next heir to the crown in case of the
king's decease. This weak and licentious woman,
being now duchess of Gloucester, and wife to the
lord protector, directed her ambition to the higher
title and prerogatives of a queen, and by way of
feeding her evil passions, called to her counsels Mar-
gery Jourdain, commonly called the witch of Eye,
Roger Bolingbroke, an astrologer and supposed
magician, Thomas Southwel, canon of St. Ste-
phen's, and one John Hume, or Hun, a priest.
These persons frequently met the duchess in secret
cabal. They were accused of calling up spirits
from the mfernal world ; and they made an image
of wax, which they slowly consumed before a fire,
expecting that, as the image gradually wasted away,
so the constitution and life of the poor king would
decay and finally perish.
296 ELEANOR COBHAM.
Hume, or Hun, is supposed to have turned in-
former, and upon his information several of these
persons were taken into custody. After previous
examination, on the twenty-fifth of July, 1441,
Bolingbroke was placed upon a scaffold before the
cross of St. Paulas, with a chair curiously painted,
which was supposed to be one of his implements
of necromancy, and dressed in mystical attire, and
there, before the archbishop of Canterbury, the
cardinal of Winchester, and several other bishops,
made abjuration of all his unlawful ai-ts.
A short time after, the duchess of Gloucester,
having fled to the sanctuary at Westminster, her case
was referred to the same high persons, and Boling-
broke was brought forth to give evidence against
her. She was of consequence committed to custody
in the castle of Leeds near Maidstone, to take her
trial in the month of October. A commission was
directed to the lord treasurer, several noblemen,
and certain judges of both benches, to enquire into
all manner of treasons, sorceries, and other things
that might be hurtful to the king's person, and
Bolingbroke and Southwel as principals, and the
duchess of Gloucester as accessory, were brought
before them. Margery Jourdain was arraigned at
the same time ; and she, as a witch and relapsed
heretic, was condemned to be burned in Smithfield.
The duchess of Gloucester was sentenced to do
penance on three several days, walking through
the streets of London, with a Hghted taper in her
RICHARD III. 297
hand, attended by the lord mayor, the sheriffs, and
a select body of the livery, and then to be banished
for life to the isle of Man. Thomas Southwel died
in prison ; and Bolingbroke was hanged at Tyburn
on the eighteenth of November.
RICHARD III.
An event occurred not very long after this,
which deserves to be mentioned, as being well cal-
culated to shew how deep an impression ideas of
witchcraft had made on the public mind even in
the gravest affairs and the counsels of a nation.
Richard duke of Gloucester, afterwards Richard
III, shortly before his usurpation of the crown in
1483, had recourse to this expedient for disarming
the power of his enemies, which he feared as an
obstacle to his project. Being lord protector, he
came abruptly into the assembly of the council
that he had left but just before, and suddenly
asked, what punishment they deserved who should
be found to have plotted against his life, being the
person, as nearest akin to the young king, in-
trusted in chief with the affairs of the nation ?
And, a suitable answer being returned, he said the
persons he accused were the queen-dowager, and
Jane Shore, the favourite concubine of the late
king, who by witchcraft and forbidden arts had
sought to destroy him. And, while he spoke, he
laid bare his left arm up to the elbow, which ap-
{298 RICHARD III.
peared shrivelled and wasted in a pitiable manner.
" To this condition/' said be, " have these aban^
doned women reduced me/'— -The historian adds,
that it was well known that his arm had been thus
wasted from his birth.
In January 1484 the parliament met which re-
cognised the title of Richard, and pronounced the
marriage of Edward IV null, and its issue illegi-
timate. The same parliament passed an act of at-
tainder against Henry earl of Richmond, afterwards
Henry VII, the countess of Richmond, his mother,
and a great number of other persons, many of them
the most considerable adherents of the house of
Lancaster, Among these persons are enumerated
Thomas Nandick and William Knivet, necro-
mancers. In the first parliament of Henry VII
this attainder was reversed, and Thomaa Nandick
of Cambridge, cotijurer, is specially nominated as
an object of free pardon^.
/^ Sir Thomas More, History of Edward the Fifth.
^ Buck, Life and Reign of Richard III. ,
5^90
SANGUINARY PROCEEDINGS AGAINST WITCH-
CRAFT,
I AM now led to the most psanful part of my
subject, but which does not the less constitute one
of its integral members, and whichj though pain-
ful, is deeply instructive, and constitutes a most
essential branch in the science of human nature.
Wherever I could, I have endeavoured to render
the topics which offered themselves to my exami-
nation, entertaining. When men pretended to
invert thie known laws of nature, " murdering im*-
possibility ; to make what cannot be, slight work ;'*
I have been willing to consider the whole as an
ingenious fiction, and merely serving as an ex-
ample how far credulity could go in setting aside
the deductions of our reason, and the evidence of
sense. The artists in these cases did not fail to
excite admiration, and gain some sort of applause
from their contemporaries, though still with a
tingling feeling that all was not exactjy as it
should be, and with a confession thp-t the profes-
sors were exercising unhallowed arts. It was like
what has been known of the art of acting ; those
who employed it were caressed and made every
where welcome, but were not allowed the diSr
tinction of Christian burial.
But, particularly in the fifteenth century, things
300 SANGUINARY PROCEEDINGS
took a new turn. In the dawn of the day of good
sense, and when historical evidence at length
began to be weighed in the scales of judgment,
men became less careless of truth, and regarded
prodigies and miracles with a different temper.
And, as it often happens, the crisis, the precise
passage from ill to better, shewed itself more cala-
mitous, and more full of enormities and atrocity,
than the period when the understanding was com-
pletely hood-winked, and men digested absurdities
and impossibility with as much ease as their every
day food. They would not now forgive the tam-
pering with the axioms of eternal truth ; they re-
garded cheat and imposture with a very different
eye ; and they had recourse to the stake and the
faggot, for the purpose of proving that they would
no longer be trifled with. They treated the of-
fenders as the most atrocious of criminals, and
thus, though by a very indirect and circuitous
method, led the way to the total dispersion of
those clouds, which hung, with most uneasy opera-
tion, on the human understanding.
The university of Paris in the year 1398 pro-
mulgated an edict, in which they complained that
the practice of witchcraft was become more fre-
quent and general than at any former period*.
A stratagem was at this time framed by the
ecclesiastical persecutors, of confounding together
the crimes of heresy and witchcraft. The first of
« Hutchinson on W^itchcraft.
AGAINST WITCHCRAFT. SQl
these might seem to be enough in the days of
bigotry and implicit faith, to excite the horror of
the vulgar ; but the advocates of religious unifor-
mity held that they should be still more secure of
their object, if they could combine the sin of
holding cheap the authority of the recognised
heads of Christian faith, with that of men's en-
listing under the banners of Satan, and becoming
the avowed and sworn vassals of his infernal em-
pire. They accordingly seem to have invented
the ideas of a sabbath of witches, a numerous as-
sembly of persons who had cast off all sense of
shame, and all regard for those things which the
rest of the human species held most sacred, where
the devil appeared among them in his most for-
bidding form, and, by rites equally ridiculous and
obscene, the persons present acknowledged them-
selves his subjects. And, having invented this
scene, these cunning and mischievous persecutors
found means, as we shall presently see, of compelling
their unfortunate victims to confess that they had
personally assisted at the ceremony, and performed
all the degrading offices which should consign them,
in the world to come to everlasting fire.
While I express myself thus, I by no means in-
tend to encourage the idea that the ecclesiastical
authorities of these times were generally hypo-
crites. They fully partook of the narrowness of
thought of the period in which they lived. They
believed that the siiji of heretical pravity was " as
302 SANGUmARY PR0C££DIN6S
the sin of witchcraft**;'^ they regarded them alike
with horror^ and were persuaded that there was a
natural consent and alliance between them. Fully
impressed with this conception, they employed
means from which our genuine and undebauched
nature revolts, to extort from their deluded victims
a confession of what thieir examiners apprehended
to be true ; they asked them leading questions ;
they suggested the answers they desired to re-
ceive ; and led the ignorant and friendless to ima-
gine that, if these answers were adopted, they
might expect immediately to be relieved from in-
supportable tortures. The delusion went round.
These unhappy wretches, finding themselves the
objects of universal abhorrence, and the hatred of
mankind, at length many of them believed that
they had entered into a league with the devil, that
they had been transported by him through the air
to an assembly of souls consigned to everlasting
reprobation, that they had bound themselves in
acts of fealty to their infernal taskmasterai arid had
received from him in return the gift of performing
superhuman and supernatural feats. This is a
tremendous state of degradation of what Milton
called the " the faultless proprieties of nature^*'
which cooler thinking and more enlightened times
would lead us to regard as impossible, but to which
the uncontradicted arid authentic voice of history
compels us to subscribe.
^ 1 Samuel, xv, 23. " Doctrine of Divorce, Preface.
AGAINST WITCHCRAFT. 303
The Albigenses and Waldenses were a set of
men, who, in the flourishing provinces of Langue-
doc, in the darkest ages, and when the understand-
ings of human creatures by a force not less me-
morable than that of Procrustes were reduced to
an uniform stature, shook off by some strange and
unaccountable freak, the chains that were univer-
sally imposed^ and arrived at a boldness of think-
ing similar to that which Luther and Calvin
after a lapse of centuries advocated with happier
auspices. With these manly and generous senti-
ments however they combined a considerable
portion of wild enthusiasm. They preached the
necessity of a community of goods, taught that it
was necessary to wear sandals, because sandals
only had been worn by the apostles, and devoted^
themselves to lives of rigorous abstinence and the
most severe self-deniaL
The Catholic church knew no other way in
those days of converting heretics, but by fire and
sword J and accordingly pope Innocent the Third
published a crusade against them. The inquisition
was expressly appointed in its origin to bring back
these stray sheep into the flock of Christ ; and, to
support this institution in its operations, Simon
Montfort marched a numerous army for the exter-
mination of the offenders. One hundred thousand
are said to have perished. They disappeared from
the country which had witnessed their commence-
ment, and dispersed themselves in the vallies of
304 SANGUINARY PROCEEDINGS
Piedmont, in Artois, and in various other places.
This crusade occurred in the commencement of
the thirteenth century ; and they do not again
attract the notice of history till the middle of the
fifteenth.
Monstrelet, in his Chronicle, gives one of the
earliest accounts of the proceedings at this time
instituted against these unfortunate people, under
the date of the year 1459. " In this year,*' says
he, " in the town of Arras, there occurred a
miserable and inhuman scene, to which, I know
not why, was given the name of Vaudoisie. There
were taken up and imprisoned a number of consi-
derable persons inhabitants of this town, and others
of a very inferior class. These latter were so
cruelly put to the torture, that they confessed,
that they had been transported by supernatural
means to a solitary place among woods, where the
devil appeared before them in the form of a man,
though they saw not his face. He instructed them
in the way in which they should do his bidding, and
exacted from them acts of homage and obedience.
He feasted them, and after, having put out the
lights, they proceeded to acts of the grossest licen-
tiousness." These accounts, according to Mon-
strelet, were dictated to the victims by their tor-
mentors; and they then added, under the same
suggestion, the names of divers lords, prelates, and
governors of towns and bailliages, whom they
affirmed they had seen at these meetings, and who
AGAINST WITCHCRAFT. 305
joined in the same unholy ceremonies. The his-
torian adds, that it cannot be concealed that these
accusations were brought by certain malicious per-
sons, either to gratify an ancient hatred, or to
extort from the rich sums of money, by means of
which they might purchase their escape from
fturther prosecution. The persons apprehended
were many of them put to the torture so severely,
and for so long a time, and were tortured again
and again, that they were obliged to confess what
was laid to their charge. Some however shewed
so great constancy, that they could by no means
be induced to depart from the protestation of
their innocence. In fine, many of the poorer
victims were inhumanly burned ; while the richer
with great sums of money procured their dis-
charge, but at the same time were compelled to
banish themselves to distant places, remote from
the scene of this cruel outrage.— Balduiiius of
Artois gives a similar account, and adds that the
sentence of the judges was brought by appeal
under the revision of the parliament of Paris, and
was reversed by that judicature in the year 1491'*.
I have not succeeded in tracing to my satisfac-
tion from the original authorities the dates of the
following examples, and therefore shall refer them
to the periods assigned them in Hutchinson on.
Witchcraft. The facts themselves rest for the
most part on the most unquestionable authority.
d Delrio, Disquisitiones Magicse, p. 746.
306 SANGUINARY PROCEEDINGS
Innocent VIII published about the year 1484
a bull, in which he affirms : " It has come to our
ears, that numbers of both sexes do not avoid to
have intercourse with the infernal fiends, and that
by their sorceries they afflict both man and beast ;
they blight the marriage-bed, destroy the births of
women, and the increase of cattle ; they blast the
corn on the ground, the grapes of the vineyard,
the fruits of the trees, and the grass and herbs of
the field.*' For these reasons he arms the inquisi-
tors with apostolic power to " imprison, convict
and punish" all such as may be charged with these
oflences. — The consequences of this edict were
dreadful all over the continent, particularly in
Italy, Germany and France.
Alciatus, an eminent lawyer of this period, re-
lates, that a certain inquisitor came about this time
into the vallies of the Alps, being commissioned to
enquire out and proceed against heretical women
with whom those parts were infested. He accord-
ingly consigned more than one hundred to the
flames, every day, like a new holocaust, sacrificing
such persons to Vulcan, as, in the judgment of the
historian, were subjects demanding rather helle-
bore than fire ; till at length the peasantry of the
vicinity rose in arms, and drove the merciless
judge out of the country. The culprits were ac-
cused of having dishonoured the crucifix, and de-
nying Christ for their God. They were asserted
to have solemnised after a detestable way the
AGAINST WITCHCRAFT. 307
devU's sabbath, in which the fiend appeared per-
sonally among them, and instructed them in the
ceremonies of his worship. Meanwhile a question
was raised whether they personally assisted on the
occasion, or only »gaw the isolemnities in a vision,
dredible witnesses having swoin that they were at
home in their beds, at the very time that they were
accused of having taken part in these blasphemies%
In 1515, more than five hundred persons are
said to have suflfered capitally for the crime of
witchcraft in the city of Geneva in the course of
three months'.
In 1524, one thousand persons were burned on
this accusation in the territory of Como, and one
hundred per annum fi)r several year after'.
Danaeus commences his Dialogue of Witches
with this observation. " Within three monthjs of
the present time (1575) an almost infinite num-
ber of witches have been taken, on whom the par-
liament of Paris has passed judgment : and the
same tribunal fails not to sit daily, as malefactors
accused of this crime are continually brought be-
fore them but of all the provinces.**
In the year 1595 Nicholas Remi, otherwise Re-
migius, printed a very curious work, entitled De-
monolatreia^ in which he elaborately expounds the
principles of the compact into which the devil en-
e Alciatus, Parergwv Juris, L. VIII, cap. 22.
^ Danaeus, apud Delrio, Proloquium.
s Bartholomseus de Spina, De Strigibus, c. 13.
X 2
308 SANGUINARY PROCEEDINGS
ters with his mortal allies, and the modes of con-
duct specially observed by both parties. He boasts
that his exposition is founded on an exact obser-
vation of the judicial proceedings which had taken
place under his eye in the duchy of Lorraine,
where for the preceding fifteen years nine hundred
persons, more or less, had suffered the extreme
penalty of the law for the crime of sorcery. Most
of the persons tried seem to have been sufficiently
communicative as to the different kinds of menace
and compulsion by which the devil had brought
them into his terms, and the various appearances
he had exhibited, and feats he had performed :
but others, says the author, had, " by preserving
an obstinate silence, shewn themselves invincible
to every species of torture that could be inflicted
on them.'*
But the most memorable record that remains to
us on the subject of witchcraft, is contained in an
ample quarto volume, entitled A Representation
(Tableau) of the 111 Faith of Evil Spirits and De-
mons, by Pierre De Lancre, Royal Counsellor
in the Parliament of Bordeaux. This man was
appointed with one coadjutor, to enquire into cer-
tain acts of sorcery, reported to have been com-
mitted in the district of Labourt, near the foot of
the Pyrenees ; and his commission bears date in
May, 1609, and by consequence twelve months
before the death of Henry the Fourth.
The book is dedicated to M. de Silleri, chan-
AGAINST. WITCHCRAFT. 309
cellor of France ; and in the dedication the author
observes, that formerly those who practised sor-
cery were well known for persons of obscure sta-
tion and narrow intellect ; but that now the sor-
cerers who confess their misdemeanours, depose,
that there are seen in the customary meetings held
by such persons a great number of individuals of
quality, whom Satan keeps veiled from ordinary
gaze, and who are allowed to approach near to
him, while those of a poorer and more vulgar class
ai'e thrust back to the furthest part of the assem-
bly. The whole narrative assumes the form of a
regular warfare between Satan on the one side,
and the royal commissioners on the other.
At first the devil endeavoured to supply the
accused with strength to support the tortures by
which it was sought to extort confession from
them, insomuch that, in an intermission of the
torture, the wretches declared that, presently fall-
ing asleep, they seemed to be in paradise, and to
enjoy the most beautiful visions. The commis-
sioners however, observing this, took care to grant
them scarcely any remission^ till they had drawn
from them, if possible, an ample confession. The
devil next proceeded to stop, the mouths of the
accused that they might not confess. He leaped
on their throats, and evidently caused an obstruc-
tion of the organs of speech, so. that in vain they
endeavoured to relieve themselves, by disclosing all
that was demanded of them.
310 PROCEEDINGS AGAINST WITCHCRAFT.
The historian proceeds to say that, at these
sacrilegious assemblings, they now began to mur-
mur against the devil, as wanting power to re*
lieve them in their extremity. The children, the
daughters, and other relatives of the victims re-
proached him, not scrupling to say, ** Out upon
youl you promised that our mothers who were
prisoners should not die ; and look how you have
kept your word with us ! They have been burned,
and are a heap of ashes/* In answer to. this charge
the devil stoutly affirmed, that their p^ents, who
seemed to have suffered, were not dead, but were
safe in a foreign country, assuring the malcontents
that, if they called on them, they would receive
an answer. The children called accordingly, and
by an infernal illusion an answer came, exactly in
the several voices of the deceased, declaring that
they were in a state of happiness and seairity.
Further to satisfy the complainers, the devil
produced illusory fires, and encouraged the dissa-
tisfied to walk through them, assuring them that
the fires lighted by a judicial decree were as harm-
less and inoffensive as these. The demon further
threatened that he would cause the prosecutors to
be burned in their own fire, and even proceeded
to make them in semblance hover and alight
on the branches of the neighbouring trees. He
further caused a swarm of toads to appear like
a garland to crown the heads of the sufferers, at
which when in one instance the bystanders threw
SAVONAROLA. 311
stones to drive them away, one monstrous black
toad remained to the last uninjured, and finally
mounted aloft, and vanished from sight. De
Lancre goes on to describe the ceremonies of th6
sabbath of the devil ; and a plate is inserted, pre-
senting the assembly in the midst of their solemni-
ties. He describes in several chapters, tjie sort of
contract entered into between the devil and the sor-
cerers, the marks by which they may be known,
the feast with which the demon regaled them, their
distorted and monstrous dance, the copulation be-
tween the fiend and the witch, and its issue. — It
is easy to imagine with what sort of fairness the
trials were conducted, when such is the descrip-
tion the judge affords us of what passed at these
assemblies. Six hundred were burned under this
prosecution.
The last chapter is devoted to an accurate ac-
count of what took place at an auto da fein the
mcmth of November I6IO at Logrogno on the
JEbro in Spain, the victims being for the greater
part the unhappy wretches, who had escaped
through the Pyrenees from the merciless prose-
cution that had been exercised against them by
the historian of the whole.
SAVONAROLA.
Jerome Savonarola was one of the most remark-
able men of his time, and his fortunes are well
312 SAVONAROLA.
adapted to illustrate the peculiarities of that period.
He was bom in the year 1452 at Ferrara in Itdy.
He became a Dominican Friar at Bologna without
the knowledge of his parents in the twenty-second
year of his age. He was first employed by his
superiors in elucidating the principles of physics
and metaphysics. But, after having occupied some
years in this way, he professed to take a lasting
leave of these subtleties, and to devote hunself ex-
clusively to the study of the Scriptures. In no
long time he became an eminent preacher, by the
elegance and purity of his style acquiring the ap-
plause of hearers of taste, and by the unequalled
fervour of his eloquence securing the hearts of the
many. It was soon obvious, that, by his power
gained in this mode, he could do any thing he
pleased with the people of Florence among whom
he resided. Possessed of such an ascendancy, he
was not contented to be the spiritual guide of the
souls of men, but further devoted himself to the tem-
poral prosperity and grandeur of his country. The
house of Medici was at this time masters of the
state, and the celebrated Lorenzo de Medici pos-
sessed the administration of affairs. But the poli-
tical maxims of Lorenzo were in discord with those
of our preacher. Lorenzo sought to concentre all
authority in the opulent few ; but Savonarola, pro-
ceeding on the model of the best times of ancient
Rome, endeavoured to vest the sovereign power in
the hands of the people.
SAVONAROLA. 313
He had settled at Florence in the thirty-fourth
year pf his age, being invited to become prior of
the convent of St. Mark in that city : and such
was his popularity, that, four years after, Lorenzo
on his death-bed sent for Savonarola to administer
to him spiritual consolation. Meanwhile, so stem
did this republican shew himself, that he insisted on
Lorenzo's renunciation of his absolute power, before
he would administer to him the sacrament and abso-
lution : and Lorenzo complied with these terms.
The prince being dead, Savonarola stepped im-
mediately into the highest authority. He recon-
stituted the state upon pure republican principles,
and enjoined four things especially in all his public
preachings, the fear of God, the love of the re-
public, oblivion of all past injuries, and equal rights
to all for the future.
But Savonarola was not contented with the de-
livery of Florence, where he is said to have pro-
duced a total revolution of manners, from liberti-
nism to the most exemplary purity and integrity ;
he likewise aspired to produce an equal effect on
the entire of Italy. Alexander VI, the most pro-
fligate of popes, then filled the chair at Rome ; and
Savonarola thundered against him in the cathedral
at Florence the most fearful denunciations. The
pope did not hesitate a moment to proceed to ex-
tremities against the friar. He cited him to Rome,
under pain, if disobeyed, of excommunication to
the priest, and an interdict to the republic that har-
314 SAVONAROLA.
boured him. The Florentines several times suc-
ceeded in causing the citation to be revoked, and,
making ^erms with the sovereign pontiff, Jerome
again and again suspending his preachings, which
were however continued by other friars, his col-
leagues and confederates. Savonarola meanwhile
could not long be silent ; he resumed his philippics
as fiercely as ever.
At this time faction raged strongly at Florence.
Jerome had many partisans ; all the Dominicans,
and the greater part of the populace. But he had
various enemies leagued against him ; the adher-
ents of the house of Medici, those of the pope, the
libertines, and all orders of monks and friars ex-
cept the Dominicans. The violence proceeded so
far, that the preacher was not unfrequently insulted
in his pulpit, and the cathedral echoed with the
dissentions of the parties. At length a conspiracy
was organized against Savonarola; and, his ad-
herents having got the better, the friar did not
dare to trust the punishment of his enemies to the
general assembly, where the question would have
led to a scene of warfare, but referred it to a more
limited tribunal, and finally proceeded to the in-
fliction of death on its sole authority.
This extremity rendered his enemies more fii-
rious against him. The pope directed absolution,
the communion, and the rites of sepulture, to be
refrised to his followers. He was now expelled
from the cathedral at Florence, and removed his
SAVONAROLA. 315
preachings to the chapd of his convent, which
was enlarged in its accommodations to adapt itself
to his numerous auditors. In this interim a most
extraordinary scene took, place. One Francis de
Pouille offered himself to the trial of fire, in favour
of the validity of the excommunication of the pope
against the pretended inspiration and miracles of
the prophet. H^ said he did not doubt to perish
in the experiment, but that he should have the
satisfaction of seeing Savonarola perish along with
him. Dominic de Pescia however and another
Dominican presented themselves to the flames in-
stead of Jerome, alledging that he was reserved for
higher things. De Pouille at first declined the
substitution, but was afterwards prevailed on to
submit. A vast fire was lighted in the market-
place for the trial ; smd a low and narrow gallery
of ircm passed over the middle, on which the chal-
lenger and the challenged were to attempt to effect
their passage. But a furious deluge of rain was
said to have occurred at the instant every thing
was ready; the fire was extinguished ; and the trial
fi^r the present was thus rendered impossible.
Savonarola in the earnestness of his preachings
pretended to turn prophet, and confidently to pre-
dict future events. He spoke of Charles VIII of
France as the Cyrus who ^should deliver Italy, and
subdue the nations before him ; and ev^i named
the spring of the year 1498 as the period that
should see all these things performed.
31 6 SAVON AROLrA.
But it was not in prophecy sdone that Savona-
rola laid claim to supernatural aid. He described
various contests that he had maintained against a
multitude of devils at once in his convent. They
tormented in different ways the friars of St. Mark»
but ever shrank with awe from his personal inter-
position. They attempted to call upon him by
name ; but the spirit of (rod overruled them, so
that they could never pronounce his name aright,
but still misplaced syllables and letters in a ludi-
crous ^shion. They uttered terrific threatenings
against him, but immediately after shrank away with
fear, awed by the holy words and warnings which
he denounced against them. Savonarola besides
undertook to expel them by night, by sprinkling
holy water, and the singing of hymns in a solemn
chorus. While however he was engaged in these
sacred offices, and pacing the cloister of his con-
vent, the devils would arrest his steps, and sud-
denly render the air before him so thick, that it
was impossible for him to advance furthCT. On
another occasion one of his colleagues assured
Francis Picus of Mirandola, the writer of his Life,
that he had himself seen the Holy Ghost in the
form of a dove more than once, sitting on Savona-
rola's shoulder, fluttering his feathers, which were
sprinkled with silver and gold, and, putting his
beak to his ear, whispering to him his divine sug-
gestions. The prior besides relates in a book of
his own composition at great length a dialogue that
SAVONAROLA. 317
he held with the devil, appearing like, and having
been mistaken by the writer for, a hermit.
The life of Savonarola however came to a speedy
and tragical close. The multitude, who axe always
fickle in their impulses, conceiving an unfavour-
able impression in consequence of his personally
declining the trial by fire, turned against him.
The same evening they besieged the convent
where he resided, and in which he had taken re-
fuge. The signory, seeing the urgency of the
case, sent to the brotherhood, commanding them
to surrender the prior, and the two Dominicans
who had presented themselves in his stead to the
trial by fire. The pope sent two judges to try
them on the spot. They were presently put to
the torture. Savonarola, who we are told was of
a delicate habit of body, speedily confessed and ex-
pressed contrition for what he had done. But no
sooner was he delivered from the strappado, than
he retracted all that he had before confessed. The
experiment was repeated several times, and always
with the same success.
At length he and the other two were adjudged
to perish in the flames. This sentence was no
sooner pronounced than Savonarola resumed all
the constancy of a martyr. He advanced to the
place of execution with a steady pace and a serene
countenance, and in the midst of the flames re-
signedly commended his soul into the hands of his
maker. His adherents regarded him as a witness
318 TRITHEMIUS.
to the truth, and piously collected his relics ; but
his judges, to counteract this defiance of authority,
commanded his remains and his ashes to be cast
into the river*. .
TRITHEMIUS.
A name that has in some way become famous
in the annals of magic, is that of John Trithemius,
abbot of Spanheim, or Sponheim, in the circle of
the Upper Rhine. He was born in the year 1462.
He early distinguished himself by his devotion to
literature ; insomuch that, according to the com-
mon chronology, he was chosen in the year 1482,
being about twenty years of age, abbot of the
Benedictine monastery of St. Martin at Spanheim.
He has written a great number of works, and has
left some memorials of his life. Learning was at
a low ebb when he was chosen to this dignity.
The library of the convent consisted of little more
than forty volumes. But, shortly after, under his
superintendence it amounted to many hundreds*
He insisted upon his monks diligently employing
themselves in the multiplication of manuscripts.
The monks, who had hitherto spent their days in
luxurious idleness, were greatly dissatisfied with
this revolution, and led their abbot a very uneasy
life. He was in consequence removed to preside
over the abbey of St. Jacques in Wurtzburg in
* Biographie Universelle.
I yi^'
iA-H*
TRITHEMIUS. 319
1506, where he died in tranquillity and peace in
1516.
Trithemius has been accused of necromancy
and a commerce with demons. The principal
ground of this accusation lies in a story that has
been told of his intercourse with the emperor
Maximilian. Maximilian's first wife was Mary of
Burgundy, whom he lost in the prime of her life.
The emperor was inconsolable upon the occasion ;
and Trithemius, who was called in as singularly
qualified to comfort him, having tried all other
expedients in vain, at length told Maximilian that
he would undertake to place his late consort before
him precisely in the state in which she had lived.
After suitable preparations, Mary of Burgundy
accordingly appeared. The emperor was struck
with astonishment. He found the figure before
him in all respects like the consort he had lost.
At length he exclaimed, " There is one mark by
which I shall infallibly know whether this is the
same person. Mary, my wife, had a wart in the nape
of her neck, to the ,existence of which no one was
privy but mysel£** He examined, and found the
wart there, in all respects as it had been during
her life. The story goes on to say, that Maximi-
lian was so disgusted and shocked with what he saw,
that he banished Trithemius his presence for ever.
This tale has been discredited, partly on the
score of the period of the death of Mary of Bur-
gundy, which happened in 1481, when Trithemius
320 LUTHER.
was only nineteen years of age. He himself ex-
pressly disclaims all imputation of sorcery. One
ground of the charge has been placed upon the
existence of a work of his, entitled Steganographia,
or the art, by means of a secret writing, of commu-
nicating our thoughts to a person absent. He
says however, that in this work he had merely
used the language of magic, without in any degree
having had recourse to their modes of proceeding.
Trithemius appears to have been V^e first writer
who has made mention of the extraordinary feats
of John Faust of Wittenburg, and that in a way
that shews he considered these enchantments as
the work of a supernatural power**.
LUTHER.
It is particularly proper to introduce some men-
tion of Luther in this place ; not that he is in any
way implicated in the question of necromancy,
but that there are passages in his writings in which
he talks of the devil in what we should now think
a very extraordinary way. And it is curious, and
* not a little instructive, to see how a person of so
masculine an intellect, and who in many respects
^o far outran the illumination of his age, was ac-
customed to judge respecting the intercourse of
mortals with the inhabitants of the infernal world.
Luther was bom in the year 1483.
^ Biographie Universelle.
LUTHER. 321
It appears from his Treatise on the Abuses at-
tendant on Private Masses, that he had a confer-
ence with the devil on the subject He says, that
this supernatural personage caused him by his
visits " many bitter nights and much restless and
wearisome repose." Once in particular he came
to Luther, " in the dead of the night, when he
was just awaked out of sleep. The devil,'* he goes
on to say, " knows well how to construct his ar-
guments, and to urge them with the skill of a
master. He delivers himself with a grave, and yet
a shrill voice. Nor does he use circumlocutions,
and beat about the bush, but excels in forcible
statements and quick rejoinders. I no longer
wonder,'* he adds, " that the persons whom he
assails in this way, are occasionally found dead in
their beds. He is able to compress and throttle,
and more than once he has so assaulted me and
driven my soul into a corner, that I felt as if the
next moment it must leave my body. I am of
opinion that Gesner and Oecolampadius and others
in that manner came by their deaths. The devil's
manner of opening a debate is pleasant enough;
but he urges things so peremptorily, that the re-
spondent in a short time knows not how to acquit
himself*." He elsewhere says, "The reasons why
the sacramentarians understood so little of the
Scriptures, is that they do not encounter the true
opponent, that is, the devil, who presently drives
Hospinian, Historia Sacramentaria, Part II, fol. 131.
Y
322 CORNELIUS AORIPPA.
one up in a comer, and thus makes one perceive
the just interpretation. For my part I am tho-
roughly acquainted with him, and have eaten a
bushel of salt with him. He sleeps with me more
frequently, and lies nearer to me in bed, than my
own wife does^/*
CORNELIUS AGRIPPA.
Henry Cornelius Agrippa was born in the year
I486. He was one of the most celebrated men of
his time. His talents were remarkably great ; and
he had a surprising facility in the acquisition of
languages. He is spoken of with the highest
commendations by Tritheraius, Erasmus, Melanc-
thon, and others, the greatest men of his times.
But he was a man of the most violent passions,
and of great instability of temper. He was of
consequence exposed to memorable vicissitudes.
He had great reputation as an astrologer, and
was assiduous in the cultivation of chemistry. He
had the reputation of possessing the philosopher's
stone, and was incessantly experiencing the pri-
vations of poverty. He was subject to great per-
secutions, and was repeatedly imprisoned. He
received invitations at the same time from Henry
VIII, from the chancellor of the emperor, from a
distinguished Italian marquis, and from Margaret
of Austria, governess of the Low Countries. He
^ Bayle.
CORNELIUS AGRIPPA, 323
made his election in favour of the last, and could
find no way so obvious of showing his gratitude
for her patronage, as composing an elaborate trea-
tise on the Superiority of the Female Sex, which
he dedicated to her. Shortly after, he produced a
work not less remarkable, to demonstrate the Vanity
and Emptiness of Scientifical Acquirements. Mar-
garet of Austria being dead, he was subsequently
appointed physician to Louisa of Savoy, mother
to Francis I. This lady however having assigned
him a task disagreeable to his inclination, a calcu-
lation according to the rules of astrology, he made
no scruple of turning against her, and affirming
that he should henceforth hold her for a cruel and
perfidious Jezebel. After a life of storms and per-
petual vicissitude, he died in 1534, aged 48 years.
He enters however into the work I am writing,
principally on account of the extraordinary stories
that have been told of him on the subject of magic.
He says of himself, in his Treatise on the Vanity
of Sciences, " Being then a very young man, I
wrote in three books of a considerable size Disqui-
sitions concerning Magic.*'
The first of the stories I am about to relate is
chiefly interesting, inasmuch as it is connected with
the history of one of the most illustrious ornaments
of our early English poetry, Henry Howard earl
of Surrey, who suffered death at the close of the
reign of King Henry VIII. The earl of Surrey,
we are told, became acquainted with Cornelius
y2
\}^^
324 CORNELIUS AGRIPPA.
Agrippa at the court of John George elector of
Saxony. On this occasion were present, beside the
English nobleman, Erasmus, andmany other persons
eminent in the republic of letters. These persons
shewed themselves enamoured of the reports that
had been spread of Agrippa, and desired him be-
fore the elector to exhibit something memorable.
One intreated him to call up Plautus, and shew
him as he appeared in garb and countenance, when
he ground com in the mill. Another before all
things desired to see Ovid. But Erasmus earnestly
requested to behold Tully in the act of delivering
his oration for Roscius. This proposal carried the
most votes. And, after marshalling the concourse
of spectators, Tully appeared, at the command of
Agrippa, and from the rostrum pronounced the
oration, precisely in the words in which it has
been handed down to us, " with such astonishing
animation, so fervent an exaltation of spirit, and
such soul-stirring gestures, that all the persons
present were ready, like the Romans of old, to
pronounce his client innocent of every charge that
had been brought against him.*' The story adds,
that, when sir Thomas More was at the same
place, Agrippa shewed him the whole destruction
of Troy in a dream. To Thomas Lord Cromwel
he exhibited in a perspective glass King Heniy
VIII and all his lords hunting in his forest at
Windsor. To Charles V he shewed David, Solo-
mon, Gideon, and the rest, with the Nine Wor-
CORNELIUS AGRIPPA. 325
thies, in their habits and similitude as they had
lived.
Lord Surrey, in the mean time having gotten
into familiarity with Agrippa, requested him by
the way side as they travelled, to set before him
his mistress, the fair Geraldine, shewing at the
same time what she did, and with whom she
talked. Agrippa accordingly exhibited his magic
glass, in which the noble poet saw this beautiful
dame, sick, weeping upon her bed, and incon-
solable for the absence of her admirer. — It is now
known, that the sole authority for this tale is
Thomas Nash, the dramatist, in his Adventures of
Jack Wilton, printed in the year 1593.
Paulus Jovius relates that Agrippa always kept
a devil attendant upon him, who accompanied him
in all his travels in the shape of a black dog. When
he lay on his death-bed, he was earnestly exhorted
to repent of his sins. Being in consequence struck
with a deep contrition, he took hold of the dog,
and removed from him a collar studded with nails,
which formed a necromantic inscription, at the
same time saying to him, " Begone, wretched ani-
mal, which hast been the cause of my entire de-
struction 1" — It is added, that the dog immediately
ran away, and plunged itself in the river Soane,
after which it was seen no more*. It is further
related of Agrippa, as of many other magicians,
that he was in the habit, when he regaled himself
a Paulus Jovius, Elogia Doctorum Virorum, c. 101.
.v.*^-^
326 CORNELIUS AGRIPPA.
at an inn, of paying his bill in counterfeit money,
which at the time of payment appeared of sterling
value, but in a few days after became pieces of
horn and worthless shells^.
But the most extraordinary story of Agrippa is
told by Delrio, and is as follows. Agrippa had
occasion one time to be absent for a few days from
his residence at Louvain. During his absence he in-
trusted his wife with thekey of his Museum, but with
an earnest injunction that no one on any account
should be allowed to enter. Agrippa happened at
that time to have a boarder in his house, a young
fellow of insatiable curiosity, who would never give
over importuning his hostess, till at length he ob-
tained from her the forbidden key. The first thing
in the Museum that attracted his attention, was a
book of spells and incantations. He spread this
book upon a desk, and, thinking no harm, began
to read aloud. He had not long continued this
occupation, when a knock was heard at the door
of the chamber. The youth took no notice, but
continued reading. Presently followed a second
knock, which somewhat alarmed the reader. The
space of a minute having elapsed, and no answer
made, the door was opened, and a demon en-
tered. " For what purpose am I called ?*' said
the stranger sternly. " What is it you demand to
have done?'' The youth was seized with the
greatest alarm, and struck speechless. The de-
** Delrio, Disquisitiones Magicae, Lib. II, Quaestio xi, § 18.
CORNELIUS AGRIPPA. 327
mon advanced towards him, seized him by the
throat, and strangled him, indignant that his pre-
sence should thus be invoked from pure thought-
lessness and presumption.
At the expected time Agrippa came home, and to
his great surprise found a number of devils capering
and playing strange antics about, and on the roof
of his house. By his art he caused them to desist
from their sport, and with authority demanded
what was the cause of this novel appearance. The
chief of them answered. He told how they had
been invoked, and insulted, and what revenge they
had taken. Agrippa became exceedingly alarmed
for the consequences to himself of this imfortunate
adventure. He ordered the demon without loss
of time to reanimate the body of his victim, then
to go forth, and to walk the boarder three or four
times up and down the market-place in the sight
of the people. The infernal spirit did as he was
ordered, shewed the student publicly alive, and
having done this, suffered the body to fall down^
the marks of consciouis existence being plainly no
more. For a time it was thought that the student
had been killed by a sudden attack of disease.
But, presently after, the marks of strangulation
were plainly discerned, and the truth came out.
Agrippa was then obUged suddenly to withdraw
himself, and to take up his residence in a distant
province %
^ Delrio, Lib. II, Quaestio xxix, § 7.
328 CORNELIUS AGRIPPA.
Wierus in his well known book, De PrcBstigiu
Demonunfiy informs us that he had lived for years
in daily attendance on Cornelius Agrippa, and
that the black dog respecting which such strange
surmises had been circulated, was a perfectly in-
nocent animal that he had often led in a string*
He adds, that the sole foundation for the story lay
in the fact, that Agrippa had been much attached
to the dog, which he was accustomed to permit
to eat off the table with its master, and even to lie
of nights in his bed. He further remarks, that
Agrippa was accustomed often not to go out of
his room for a week together, and that people ac-
cordingly wondered that he could have such accu-
rate information of what was going on in all parts
of the world, and would have it that his intelli-
gence was communicated to him by his dog. He
subjoins however, that Agrippa had in fact corre-
spondents in every quarter of the globe, and re-
ceived letters from them daily, and that this was
the real source of his extraordinary intelligence?.
Naude, in his Apology for Great Men accused
of Magic, mentions, that Agrippa composed a
book of the Rules and Precepts of the Art of
Magic, and that, if such a work could entitle a
man to the character of a magician, Agrippa in-
deed well deserved it. But he gives it as his opi-
nion that this was the only ground for fastening
the imputation on this illustrious character.
/^ Wierus, Lib. II, c. v, § 11, 12.
CORNELIUS AGRIPPA. 329
Without believing however any of the tales of
the magic practices of Cornelius Agrippa, and even
perhaps without supposing that he seriously pre-
tended to such arts, we are here presented with a
striking picture of the temper and credulity of the
times in which he lived. We plainly see from the
contemporary evidence of Wierus, that such things
were believed of him by his neighbours ; and at
that period it was suflSciently common for any
man of deep study, of recluse habits, and a certain
sententious and magisterial air to undergo these
imputations. It is more than probable that Agrippa
was willing by a general silence and mystery to
give encouragement to the wonder of the vulgar
mind. He was flattered by the -terror and awe
which his appearance inspired. He did not wish
to come down to the ordinary level. And if to
this we add his pursuits of alchemy and astrology,
with the formidable and various apparatus sup-
posed to be required in these pursuits, we shall no
longer wonder at the results which followed. He
loved to wander on the brink of danger, and was
contented to take his chance of being molested,
rather than not possess that ascendancy over the
ordinary race of mankind which was evidently
gratifying to his vanity.
330 FAUSTUS.
FAUSTUS.
Next in respect of time to Cornelius Agrippa
comes the celebrated Dr. Faustus. Little in point
of fact is known respecting this eminent personage
in the annals of necromancy. His pretended his-
tory does not seem to have been written till
about the year 1587, perhaps half a century after
his death. This work is apparently in its prin-
cipal features altogether fictitious. We have no
reason however to deny the early statements as to
his life. He is asserted by Camerarius and Wierus
to have been born at Cundling near Cracow in the
kingdom of Poland, and is understood to have
passed the principal part of his life at the univer-
sity of Wittenberg. He was probably well known
to Cornelius Agrippa and Paracelsus. Melancthon
mentions him in his Letters ; and Conrad Gessner
refers to him as a contemporary. The author of
his Life cites the opinions entertained respecting
him by Luther. Philip Camerarius speaks of him
in his Horae Subsecivae as a celebrated name
among magicians, apparently without reference to
the Life that has come down to us*; and Wierus
does the same thing*". He was probably nothing
more than an accomplished juggler, who appears
to have practised his art with great success in
several towns of Germany. He was also no doubt
a pretender to necromancy.
• Cent, h cap. 70.
*" Dc Pnestigiis Demonum, Lib. II, cap. iv, sect. 8.
FAUSTUS. 331
On this basis the well known History of his
Life has been built. The author has with great
art expanded very slender materials, and rendered
his work in a striking degree a code and receptacle
of all the most approved ideas respecting necro-
mancy and a profane and sacrilegious dealing with
the devil. He has woven into it with much skill the
pretended arts of the sorcerers, and has transcribed
or closely imitated the stories that have been
handed down to us of many of the extraordinary
feats they were said to have performed. It is
therefore suitable to our purpose to dwell at some
length upon the successive features of this history.
The life has been said to have been originally
written in Spain by Franciscus Schottus of Tole-
do, in the Latin language^ But this biographical
work is assigned to the date of 1594, previously
to which the Life is known to have existed in Ger-
man. It is improbable that a Spanish writer should
have chosen a German for the hero of his romance,
whereas nothing can be more natural than for a
German to have conceived the idea of giving fame
and notoriety to his countryman. The mistake
seems to be the same, though for an opposite rea-
son, as that which appears to have been made in
representing the Gil Bias of Le Sage as a translation.
The biographical account professes to have been
begun by Faustus himself, though written in the
^ Durrius, apud Schelhorn, Amoenitates Literariae, Tom. V,
p. 50, et seqq.
v/
332 FAUSTUS.
tfaii'd person, and to have been continued by Wag-
ner, his confidential servant, to whom the doctor
is affirmed to have bequeathed his memoirs, letters
and manuscripts, together with his house and its
furniture.
Faustus then, according to his history, was the
son of a peasant, residing on the banks of the Roda
in the duchy of Weimar, and was early adopted by
an uncle, dwelling in the city of Wittenberg, who
had no children. Here he was sent to college,
and was soon distinguished by the greatness of his
talents, and the rapid progress he made in every
species of learning that was put before him. He
was destined by his relative to the profession of
theology. But singularly enough, considering that
he is represented as furnishing materials for his
own Memoirs, he is said ungraciously to have set
at nought his uncle's pious intentions by deriding
God's word, and thus to have resembled Cain,
Reuben and Absalom, who, having sprung from
godly parents, afflicted their fathers' hearts by their
apostasy. He went through his examinations with
applause, and carried off* all the first prizes among
sixteen competitors. He therefore obtained the
degree of doctor in divinity ; but his success only
made him the more proud and headstrong. He
disdained his theological eminence, and sighed for
distinction as a man of the world. He took his
degree as a doctor of medicine, and aspired to
celebrity as a practitioner of physic. About the
FAUSTUS. 333
same time he fell in with certain contemporaries;
of tastes similar to his own, and associated with
them in the study of Chaldean, Greek and Arabic
science, of strange incantations and supernatural
influences, in short, of all the arts of a sorcerer.
Having made such progress as he could by dint
of study and intense application, he at length re-
solved to prosecute his purposes still further by
actually raising the devil. He happened one
evening to walk in a thick, dark wood, within
a short distance from Wittenberg, when it oc-
curred to him that that was a fit place for execut-
ing his design. He stopped at a solitary spot
where four roads met, and made use of his wand
to mark out a large circle, and then two small ones
within the larger. In one of these he fixed
himself, appropriating the other for the use of
his expected visitor. He went over the precise
range of charms and incantations, omitting nothing.
It was now dark night between the ninth and
tenth hour. The devil manifested himself by the
usual signs of his appearance. " Wherefore am I
called ?" said he, " and what is it that you de-
mand?" "I require,'* rejoined Faustus, "that
you should sedulously attend upon me, answer my
enquiries, and fulfil my behests."
Immediately upon Faustus pronouncing these
words, there followed a tumult over head, as if
heaven and earth were coming together. The
trees in their topmost branches bended to their
334 FAU3TUS.
very roots. It seemed as if the whole forest were
peopled with devils, making a crash like a thousand
waggons, hurrying to the right arid the left, before
and behind, in every possible direction, with thun-
der and lightning, and the continual discharge of
great cannon. Hell appeared to have emptied it-
self, to have furnished the din. There succeeded
the most charming music from all sorts of instru-
mentSy and sounds of hilarity and dancing. Next
came a report as of a tournament, and the clashing
of innumerable lances. This lasted so long, that
Faustus was many times about to rush out of the
circle in which he had inclosed himself, and to
abandon his preparations. His courage and reso-
lution however got the better ; and he remained
immoveable. He pursued his incantations without
intermission. Then came to the very edge of the
circle a griffin first, and next a dragon, which in
the midst of his enchantments grinned at him hor-
ribly with his teeth, but finally fell down at his
feet, and extended his length to many a rood.
Faustus persisted. Then succeeded a sort of fire-
works, a pillar of fire, and a man on fire at the
top, who leaped down ; and there immediately
appeared a number of globes here and there red-
hot, while the man on fire went and came to every
part of the circle for a quarter of an hour. At
length the devil came forward in the shape of
a grey monk, and asked Faustus what he want-
ed. Faustus adjourned their further conference.
FAUSTUS. 335
and appointed the devil to come to him at his
lodgings.
He in the mean time busied himself in the ne-
cessary preparations. He entered his study at the
appointed time, and found the devil waiting for
him. Faustus told him thathe had prepared cer-
tain articles, to which it was necessary that the
demon should fully accord, — that he should attend
him at all times, when required, for all the days of
his life, that he should bring him every thing he
wanted, that he should come to him in any shape
that Faustus required, or be invisible, and Faustus
should be invisible too, whenever he desired it,
that he should deny him nothing, and answer him
with perfect veracity to every thing he demanded.
To some of these requisitions the spirit could not
consent, without authority from his master, the
chief of devils. At length all these concessions
were adjusted. The devil on his part also pre-
scribed his conditions. That Faustus should abjure
the Christian religion and all reverence for the su-
preme God ; that he should enjoy the entire com-
mand of his attendant demon for a certain term of
years, and that at the end cf tfiat period the devil
should dispose of him body and soul at his plea-
sure [the term was fixed for twenty-four years] ;
that he should at all times stedfastly refuse to lis-
ten to any one who should desire to convert him,
or convince him of the error of his ways, and lead
him to repentance ; that Faustus should draw up
J
336 FAUSTUS.
a writing containing these particulars, and sign it
with his blood, that he should deliver this writing
to the devil, and keep a duplicate of it for him-
self, that so there might be no misunderstanding.
It was further appointed by Faustus that the devil
should usually attend him i:. the habit of cordelier,
with a pleasing countenance and an insinuating
aemeanour. Faustus also asked the devil his name,
who answered that he was usually called Mephos-
tophilies (perhaps more accurately Nephostophiles,
a lover of clouds).
Previously to this deplorable transaction, in
which Faustus sold himself, soul and body, to the
devil, he had consumed his inheritance, and was
reduced to great poverty. But he was now no
longer subjected to any straits. The establish-
ments of the prince of Chutz, the duke of Bavai
and the archbishop of Saltzburgh were daily put
under contribution for his more convenient sup-
ply. By the diligence of Mephostophiles provi-
sions of all kinds continually flew in at his windows;
and the choicest wines were perpetually found
at his board to the annoyance and discredit of
the cellarers and butlers of these eminent per-
sonages, who were extremely blamed for defalca-
tions in which they had no share. He also brought
him a monthly supply of money, sufficient for the
support of his establishment. Besides, he sup-
plied him with a succession of mistresses, such as
his heart desired, which were in truth nothing but
FAUSTUS. 337
devils disguised under the semblance of beautiful
women. He further gave to Faustus a book, in
which were amply detailed the processes of sor-
cery and witchcraft, by means of which the doctor
could obtain whatever he desired.
One of the earliest iij^ulgences which Faustus
proposed to himself from the command he pos-
sessed over his servant-demon, was the gratifica- r
tion of his curiosity in surveying the various
nations of the world. Accordingly Mephosto-
philes converted himself into a horse, with two
hunches on his back like a dromedary, between
which he conveyed Faustus through the air where-
ever he desired. They consumed fifteen months
in their^travels. Among the countries they visited
the history mentions Pannonia, Austria, Germany,
Pv'remia, Silesia, Saxony, Misnia, Thuringia,
Franconia, Suabia, Bavaria, Lithuania, Livonia,
Prussia, Muscovy, Friseland, Holland, Westphalia,
Zealand, Brabant, Flanders, France, Spain, Italy,
Poland, and Hungary; and afterwards Turkey,
Egjrpt, England, Sweden, Denmark, India, Africa
and Persia. In most of these countries Mephosto-
philes points out to his fellow-traveller their prin-
cipal curiosities and antiquities. In Rome they
sojourned three days and three nights, and, being
themselves invisible, visited the residence of the
pope and the other principal palaces.
At Constantinople Faustus visited the emperor
of the Turks, assuming to himself the figure of
z
338 FAUSTUS.
the prophet Mahomet His approach was pre-
ceded by a splendid illumination, not less thaa
that of the sun in all his glory. He said to the
emperor, " Happy art thou, oh sultan, who art
found worthy to be visited by the great prophet/'
And the emperor in return fell prostrate before
him, thanking Mahomet for his condescension in
this visit. The doctor also entered the seraglio,
where he remained six days under the same figure,
the building and its gardens being all the time
environed with a thick darkness, so that no one,
not the emperor himself, dared to enter. At the
end of this time the doctor, still under the figure
of Mahomet, was publicly seen, ascending, as it
seemed, to heaven. The sultan afterwards en-
quired of the women of his seraglio what had oc-
curred to them during the period of the darkness ;
and they answered, that the God Mahomet had
been with them, that he had enjoyed them cor-
poreally, and had told them that fi:om his seed
should arise a great people, capable of irresistible
exploits.
Faustus had conceived a plan of making his
way into the terrestrial paradise, without awaken-
ing suspicion in his demon-conductor. For this
piurpose he ordered him to ascend the highest
mountains of Asia. At length they came so near,
that they saw the angel with the flaming sword for-
bidding approach to the garden. Faustus, per-
ceiving this, asked Mephostophiles what it meant.
FAUSTUS. 339
His conductor told him, but added that it was in
vain for them, or any one but the angels of the
Lord, to think of entering within.
Having gratified his curiosity in other ways,
Faustus was seized with a vehement desire to visit
the infernal regions. He proposed the question
to Mephostophiles, who told him that this was a
matter out of his department, and that on that
journey he could have no other conductor than
Beelzebub. Accordingly, every thing being pre-
viously arranged, one day at midnight Beelzebub
appeared, being ialready equipped with a saddle
made of dead men's bones. Faustus speedily
mounted. They in a short time came to an abyss,
and encountered a multitude of enormous ser-
pents ; but a bear with wings came to their aid,
and drove the serpents away. A flying bull next
came with a hideous roar, so fierce that Beelzebub
appeared to give way, and Faustus tumbled at
once heels-over-head into the pit. Afler having
fallen to a considerable depth, two dragons with a
chariot came to his aid, and an ape hdped him to
get into the vehicle. Presently ho'Jirev^r came dn
a storm with thunder and lightning, so dreadful
that the doctor was thrown out, and sunk in a
tempestuous sea to a vast depth. He contrived
however to lay hold of a rock, and here to secure
himself a footing. He looked down, and perceived
a great gulph, in which lay floating many of the
vulgar, and not a few emperors, kings, princes, and
z 2
340 FAUSTUS.
such as had been mighty lords. Faustus with a
sudden impulse cast himself into the midst of the
flames with which they were surrounded, with the
desire to snatch one of the damned souls from the
pit. But, just as he thought he had caught him
by the hand, the miserable wretch slided from be-
tween his fingers, and sank again.
At length the doctor became wholly exhausted
with the fatigue he had undergone, with the smoke
and the fog, with the stifling, sulphureous air, with
the tempestuous blasts, with the alternate extremes
of heat and cold, and with the clamours, the la-
mentations, the agonies, and the bowlings of the
damned every where around him, — ^when, just in
the nick of time, Beelzebub appeared to him again,
and invited him once more to ascend the saddle,
which he had occupied during his infernal journey.
Here he fell asleep, and, when he awoke, found
himself in his own bed in his house. He then set
himself seriously to reflect on what had passed.
At one time he believed that he had been really
in hell, and had witnessed all its secrets. At
another he became persuaded that he had been
subject to an illusion only, and that the devil had
led him through an imaginary scene, which was
truly the case ; for the devil had taken care not
to shew him the real hell, fearing that it might
have caused too great a terror, and have induced
him to repent him of his misdeeds perhaps before
it was too late.
FAUSTUS. 341
' It SO happened that, once upon a time, the em-
peror Charles V was at Inspruck, at a tune when
Faustus also resided there. His courtiers informed
the emperor that Faustus was in the town, and
Charles expressed a desire to see him. He was
introduced. Charles asked him whether he could
really perform such wondrous feats as were re-
ported of him. Faustus modestly replied, inviting
the emperor to make trial of his skill. " Then,'*
said Charles, "of all the eminent personages I
have ever read of, Alexander the Great is the man
who most excites my curiosity, and whom it would
most gratify my wishes to see in the very form in
which he lived." Faustus rejoined, that it was out
of his power truly to raise the dead, but that he
had spirits at his command who had often seen
that great conqueror, and that Faustus would will-
ingly place him before the emperor as he required.
He conditioned that Charles should not speak to
him, nor attempt to touch him. The emperor
promised compliance. After a few ceremonies
therefore, Faustus opened a door, and. brought in
Alexander exactly in the form in which he had
lived, with the same garments, and every circuih-
stance correspoiuling. Alexander made his obei-
sance to the craperor, and walked several times
round him- The queen of Alexander was then
introduced in the same manner. Charles just then
dj he had read that Alexander had a wart
pe of his neck; and with proper pre-
342 FAUSTUS.
cautions Faustus allowed the emperor to examine
the apparition by this test. Alexander then va-
nished.
As doctor Faustus waited in court, he perceived
a certain knight, who had fallen asleep in a bow-
window, with his head out at window. The whim
took the doctor, to festen on his brow the antlers
of a stag. Presently the knight was roused from
his nap, when with allhis; efforts he could not draw
in his head on account of the antlers which grew
upon it. The courtiers laughed exceedingly at
the distress of the knight, and, when they had
sufficiently diverted themselves, Faustus took off
his conjuration, and set the knight at liberty.
Soon after Faustus retired from Inspruck. Mean-
while the knight, having conceived a high resent-
ment against the conjuror, waylaid him with seven
barseqien on the road by which he had to pass.
Faustus however perceived them, and immediately
made himself invisible. Meanwhile the knight
spied on every side to discover the conjuror j but,
as he wajs thus employed, he heard a sudden noise
of drums 1 and trumpets and cymbals, and saw a
regiment of horse^ advancing against him. He im-
mediately turned off* in another direction ; but was
encountered .by a second regiment of horse. This
occurred no less, than six times ; and the knight
and his companions were compelled to surrender
at discretion. These regiments were so many
devils J and Faustus now appeared in a new form
FAUSTUS, 343
as the general of this army. He obliged the knight
and his party to dismount, and give up their swords.
Then with a seeming generosity he gave them
new horses and new swords. But this was all en-
chantment. The swords presently turned into
switches ; and the horses, plunging into a river on
their road, vanished from beneath their riders,
who were thoroughly drenched in the stream, and
scarcely escaped with their lives.
Many of Faustus's delusions are rather remark-
able as tricks of merry vexation, than as partaking
of those serious injuries which we might look for
in an implement of hell. In one instance he in-
quired of a countryman who was driving a load of
hay, what compensation he would judge reason-
able for the doctor's eating as much of his hay as
he should be inclined to. The waggoner replied,
that for half a stiver (one farthing) he should be
welcome to eat as much as he pleased. The doctor
presently fell to, and ate at such a rate, that the
peasant was frightened lest his whole load should
be consumed. He therefore oflfi^ed Faustus a
gold coin, value twenty-seven shillings^ to be off
his bargain. The doctor took it ; and, when the
countryman came to his journey's end, he found
his cargo undiminished even by a single blade.
Another time, as Faustus was walking along the
road near Brunswick, the whim took him of asking
a waggoner who was driving by, to treat him with
a ride in his vehicle. " No, I will not," replied
344 FAUSTUS.
the boor j " my horses will have enough to do to
drag their proper load." " You churl/* said the
doctor, "since you will not let your wheels carry
me, you shall carry them yourself as far as from
the gates of the city." The wheels then detached
themselves, and flew through the air, to the gates
of the town from which they came. At the same
time the horses fell to the ground, and were utterly
unable to raise themselves up. The countryman,
frightened, fell on his knees to the doctor, and pro-
mised, if he would forgive him, never to offend in
like manner ^-gain. Faustus now, relenting a little,
bade the waggoner take a handful of sand from the
road, and scatter on his horses, and they would be
well. At the same time he directed the man to go
to the four gates of Brunswick, and he would find
his wheels, one at each gate.
In another instance, Faustus went into a fair,
mounted on a noble beast, richly caparisoned, the
sight of which presently brought all the horse-
fanciers about him. After considerable haggling,
he at last disposed of his horse to a dealer for a
handsome price, only cautioning him at parting,
how he rode the horse to water. The dealer,
despising the caution that had been given him,
turned his horse the first thing towards the river.
He had however no sooner plunged in, than the
horse vanished, and the rider found himself seated
on a saddle of straw, in the middle of the stream.
With difficulty he waded to the shore, and imme-
FAUSTUS. 345
diately, enquiring out the doctor's inn, went to him
to complain of the cheat. He was directed to
Faustus's room, and entering found the conjuror
on his bed, apparently asleep. He called to him
lustily, but the doctor took no notice. Worked up
beyond his patience, he next laid hold of Faustus's
foot, that he might rouse him the more effectually.
What was his surprise, to find the doctor's leg and
foot come off in his hand I Faustus screamed, ap-
parently in agony of pain, and the dealer ran out
of the room as fast as he could, thinking that he
had the devil behind him.
In one instance three young noblemen applied
to Faustus, having been very desirous to be present
at the marriage of the son of the duke of Bavaria
at Mentz, but having overstaid the time, in which
it would have been possible by human means to
accomplish the journey, Faustus, to oblige them,
led them into his garden, and, spreading a large
mantle upon a grass-plot, desired them to step on
it, and placed himself in the midst. He then re-
cited a certain form of conjuration. At the same
time he conditioned with them, that they should
on no account speak to any one at the marriage,
and, if spoken to, should not answer again. They
were carried invisibly through the air, and arrived
in excellent time. At a certain moment they be-
came visible, but were still bound to silence. One
of them however broke the injunction, and amused
himself with the courtiers. The consequence was
346 FAUSTUS.
that, when the other two were summoned by the
doctor to return, he was left behmd. There was
something so extraordinary in their sudden ap-
pearance, and the subsequent disappearance of
the others, that he who remained was put in
prison, and threatened with the torture the next
day, if he would not make a full disclosure.
Faustus however returned before break of day,
opened the gates of the prison, laid all the guards
asleep, and carried off the delinquent in tri-
umph.
On one occasion Faustus, having resolved to
pass a jovial evening, took some of his old college-
companions, and invited them to make free with
the archbishop of Saltzburgh's cellar. They took
a ladder, and scaled the wall. They seated them-
selves round, and placed a three-legged stool, with
bottles and glasses in the middle. They were in
the heart of their mirth, when the butler made his
appearance, and began to cry thieves with all his
might. The doctor at once conjured him, so that
he could neither speak nor move. There he was
obliged to sit, while Faustus and his companions
tapped every vat in the cellar. They then carried
him along with them in triumph. At length they
came to a lofty tree, where Faustus ordered them
to stop J and the butler was in the greatest fright,
apprehending that they would do no less than
hang him. The doctor however was contented,
by his art to place him on the topmost branch.
FAUSTUS. 347
where he was obliged to remain trembling and
almost dead with the cold, till certain peasants
came out to their work, whom he hailed, and finally
with great difiiculty they rescued him from his
painful eminence, and placed him safely on the
ground.
On another occasion Faustus entertained several
of the junior members of the university of Wit-
tenberg at his chambers. One of them, referring
to the exhibition the doctor had made of Alexander
the Great to the emperor Charles V, said it would
gratify him above all things, if he could once be-
hold the famous Helen of Greece, whose beauty
was so great as to have roused all the princes of
her country to arms, and to have occasioned a ten
years' war. Faustus consented to indulge his cu-
riosity, provided all the company would engage to
be merely mute spectators of the scene. This
being promised, he left the room, and presently
brought in Helen. She v[bs precisely as Homer
has described her, when she stood by the side of
Priam on the walls of Troy, looking on the Grecian
chiefs. Her features were irresistibly attractive ;
and her full, moist lips were redder than the sum-
mer cherries. Faustus shortly after obliged his
guests with her bust in marble, from which several
copies were taken, no one knowing the name of
the original artist.
No long time elapsed after this, when the doctor
was engaged in delivering a course of lectures on
348 FAUSTUS.
Homer at Erfurth, one of the principal cities of
Germany. It having been suggested to him that
it would very much enhance the interest of his
lectures, if he would exhibit to the company the
heroes of Greece exactly as they appeared to their
contemporaries, Faustus obligingly yielded to the
proposal. The heroes of the Trojan war walked
in procession before the astonished auditors, no
less lively in the representation than Helen had
been shewn before, and each of them with some
characteristic attitude and striking expression of
countenance.
When the doctor happened to be at Frankfort,
there came there four conjurors, who obtained
vast applause by the trick of cutting off one an-
other's heads, and fastening them on again. Faus-
tus was exasperated at this proceeding, and re-
garded them as laying claim to a skill superior to
his own. He went, and was invisibly present at
their exhibition. They placed beside them a vessel
with liquor which they pretended was the elixir of
life, into which at each time they threw a plant
resembling the lily, which no sooner touched the
liquor than its buds began to unfold, and shortly
it appeared in full blossom. The chief conjuror
watched his opportunity; and, when the charm
was complete, made no more ado but struck off
the head of his fellow that was next to him, and
dipping it in the liquor, adjusted it to the shoul-
ders, where it became as securely fixed as before
FAUSTUS. 349
the operation. This was repeated a second and a
third time. At length it came to the turn of the
chief conjuror to have his head smitten off. Faus-
tus stood by invisibly, and at the proper time broke
off the flower of the lily without any one being
aware of it. The head therefore of the principal
conjuror was struck off j but in vain was it steeped
in the liquor. The other conjurors were at a loss
to account for the disappearance of the lily, and
fumbled for a long time with the old sorcerer's
head, which would not stick on in any position in
which it could be placed.
Faustus was in greal favour with the Prince of
Anhalt. On one occasion, after residing some
days in his court, he said to the prince, "Will
your highness do me the favour to partake of a
small collation at a castle which belongs to me out
at your city-gates ?'* The prince graciously con-
sented. The prince and princess accompanied the
doctor, and found a castle which Faustus had
erected by magic during the preceding night.
The castle, with five lofty towers, and two great
gates, inclosing a spacious court, stood in the
midst of a beautiful lake, stocked with all kinds of
fish, and every variety of water-fowl. The coiirt
exhibited all sorts of animals, beside birds of
every colour and song, which flitted from tree to
tree. The doctor then ushered his guests into the
hall, with an ample suite of apartments, branching
off on each side. In one of the largest they found
350 FAUSTUS.
a banquet prepared, with the pope's plate of gold,
which Mephostophiles had borrowed for the day.
The viands were of the most delicious nature, with
the choicest wines in the world. The banquet
being over, Faustus conducted the prince and
princess back to the palace. But, before they had
gone far, happening to turn their heads, they saw
the whole castle blown up, and all that had been
prepared for the occasion vanish at once in a vast
volume of fire.
One Christmas-time Faustus gave a grand en-
tertainment to certain distinguished persons of
both sexes at Wittenberg. To render the scene
more splendid, he contrived to exhibit a memo-
rable inversion of the seasons. As the company
approached the doctor's house, they were surprised
to find, though there was a heavy snow through
the neighbouring fields, that Faustus's court and
garden bore not the least marks of the season, but
on the contrary were green and blooming as in the
height of summer. There was an appearance of
the freshest vegetation, together with a beautiful
vineyard, abounding with grapes, figs, raspberries,
and an exuberance of the finest fruits. The large,
red Provence roses, were as sweet to the scent as
the eye, and looked perfectly fresh and sparkling
with dew.
As Faustus was now approaching the last year
of his term, he seemed to resolve to pamper his
appetite with every species of luxury. He care-
FAUSTUS. 351
folly accumulated all the materials of voluptu-
ousness and magnificence. He was particularly
anxious in the selection of women who should serve
for his pleasures. He had one Englishwoman, one
Hungarian, one French, two of Germany, and two
from different parts of Italy, all of them eminent
for the perfections which characterised their dif-
ferent countries.
As Faustus's demeanour was particularly en-
gaging, there were many respectable persons in
the city in which he lived, that became interested
in his welfare. These applied to a certain monk
of exemplary purity of life and devotion, and urged
him to do every thing he could to rescue the doc-
tor from impending destruction. The monk began
with him with tender and pathetic remonstrances.
He then drew a fearful picture of the wrath of God,
and the eternal damnation which would certainly
ensue. He reminded the doctor of his extraordi-
nary gifts and graces, and told him how different
an issue might reasonably have been expected from
him. Faustus listened attentively to all the good
monk said, but replied mournfully that it was too
late, that he had despised and insulted the Lord,
that he had deliberately sealed a solemn compact
to the devil, and that there was no possibility of
going back. The monk answered, " You are mis-
taken. Cry to the Lord for grace ; and it shall
still be given. Shew true remorse ; confess your
sins ; abstain for the future from all acts of sorcery
352 FAUSTUS.
and diabolical interference ; and you may rely on
final salvation/* The doctor however felt that all
endeavours would be hopeless. He found in him-
self an incapacity for true repentance. And finally
the devil came to him, reproached him for breach
of contract in listening to the pious expostulations
of a saint, threatened that in case of infidelity he
would take him away to hell even before his time,
and fi'ightened the doctor into the act of signing a
fresh contract in ratification of that which he had
signed before.
At length Faustus ultimately aj^nved at the
end of the term for which he had contracted
with the devil. For two or three years before it
expired, his character gradually altered. He be-
came subject to fits of despondency, was no longer
susceptible of mirth and amusement, and reflected
with bitter agony on the close in which the whole
must terminate. During the last month of his
period, he no longer sought the services of his
infernal ally, but with the utmost unwillingness
saw his arrival. But Mephostophiles now attended
him unbidden, and treated him with biting scoffs
and reproaches. " You have well studied the Scrip-
tures," he said, " and ought to have known that
your safety lay in worshipping God alone. You
sinned with your eyes open, and can by no means
plead ignorance. You thought that twenty-four
years was a term that would have no end ; and
you now see how rapidly it is flitting away. The
FAUSTUS. 353
term for which you sold yourself to the devil is a
very different thing ; and, after the lapse of thou-
sands of ages, the prospect before you will be still
as unbounded as ever. You were warned ; you
were earnestly pressed to repent ; but now it is
too late/'
After the demon, Mephostophiles, had long tor-
mented Faustus in this manner, he suddenly dis-
appeared, consigning him over to wretchedness,
vexation and de^air.
The whole twenty-four years were now expired.
The day be re, Mephostophiles again made his
appearance, holding in his hand the bond which
the doctor had signed with his blood, giving him
notice that the next day, the devil, his master,
would come for him, and advising him to hold
himself in readiness. Faustus, it seems, had earned
himself much good will among the younger mem-
bers of the university by his agreeable manners, by
his willingness to oblige them, and by the extra-
ordinary spectacles with which he occasionally di-
verted them. This day he resolved to pass in a
friendly farewel. He invited a number of them
to meet him at a house of public reception, in a
hamlet adjoining to the city. He bespoke a large
room in the house for a banqueting room, another
apartment overhead for his guests to sleep in, and
a smaller chamber at a little distance for himself.
He fiimished his table with abundance of delica-
cies and wines. He endeavoured to appear among
2 a ,
354 FAUSTUS.
them in high spirits ; but his heart wsLj inwardly
sad.
When the entertainment was over, Faustus ad-
dressed them, telling them that this was the last
day of his life, reminding them of the wonders
with which he had frequently astonished them, ancj
informing them of the condition upon which he
had held this power. They, one iand all, expressed
the deepest sorrow at the intelligence. They had
had the idea of something unlawful in his proceed-
ings ; but their notions had been very far from
coming up to the truth. They regretted exceed-
ingly that he had not been unreserved in his com-
munications at an earlier period. They would havQ
had recourse in his behalf to the means of religion,
and have applied to pious men, desiring them to
employ their power to intercede with heaven in his
favoin:. Prayer and penitence might have done
much for him ; and the mercy of heaven was un-
bounded. They advised him still to call upon
God, and endeavour to secure an interest in the
merits of the Saviour.
Faustus assured them that it was all in vain,
and that his tragical fate was inevitable. He led
them to their sleeping apartment, and recom*
mended to them to pass the night as they could^
but by no means, whatever they might happen to
hear, to come out of it ; as their interference could
in no way be beneficial to him, and might be at-
tended with the most serious injury to themselves,
FAUSTUS. 355
They lay stfll therefore, as he ha4 enjoined them j
but not one of them could cloise his eyes.
Between twelve and onejin the night they heard
first 3; furious storm rf wind round all sides of the
house, as if it would Imve totn away the walls from
their foundations. This no sOoner somewhat
abated, than a noise was heaid of discordant and
violent hissing, ag if the house was full of all sorts
pf y^nonious rejjtiles, but which plainly proceeded
from Faustiis's chamber. Next, they heard the
do<Jtor^s room-door vehemently burjrt open, and
cries for help uttered with dreadful agony, but a
half-suppressed voice, which presently grew fainter
and fainter V Then every thing became still, as if
the everlasting motion of the world was suspended*
When at length, it became broad day, the stu-
dent^ went in a body into the doctor's apartment.
But he was no where to be seen. Only the walls
w0i:e found smeared with his blood, and marks as
if his brains had been dashed out. His body was
finally discovered at some distance from the house,
his limbs dismembered, and marks of great violence
about the features of his face. The students
gathered up the mutilated parts of his body, and
afforded them private burial at the temple of Mars
in the yiUage where he died.
A ludicrous confrision of ideas has been pro-
duced by some persons from the similarity of
names of Faustus, the supposed magician of Wit-
tenberg, and Faust or Fust of Mentz, the inventor,.
2 A 2
356 faustUs* I
or first establisher of the art of printing. . It has
been alleged that the exact resemblance of the
copies of books published by the latter, when no
other mode of multiplying copies was known but
by the act of transcribing, was found to be such,
sa could no way be accounted for by natural means,
and that therefore it was imputed to the person
who presented these copies, that he must necessa-
rily be assisted by the devil. It has further been
stated, that Faust, the printer, swore the craftsmen
he employed at his press to inviolable secrecy, that
he might the more securely keep up the price of
his books. But this notion of the identity of the
two persons is entirely groundless. Faustus, the
magician, is described in the romance as having
been born in 1491, twenty-five years after the
period at which the printer is understood to have
died, and there is no one coincidence between the
histories of the two persons, beyond the similarity
of names, aiid a certain mystery (or magical appeai*-
ance) that inevitably adheres to the practice of an
art hitherto unknown. If any secret reference
had been intended in the romance to the real cha-
racter of the illustrious introducer of an art which
has been productive of such incalculable benefits
to mankind, it would be impossible to account for
such a marvellous inconsistence in the chronology.
Others havecarried their scepticism so far, as to
have started a doubt whether there was ever really
such a. person as Faustus of Wittenberg, the al-
FAUSTUS. 857
leged magician. But the testimony of Wierusj
Philip Camerarius, Melancthon and others, his
contemporaries, sufficiently refutes this supposition.
The fact is, that there was undoubtedly such a
man, who, by sleights of dexterity, made himself
a reputation as if there was something superna-
tural in his performances, and that he was probably
also regarded with a degree of terror and abhor-
rence by the superstitious. On this theme was
constructed a romance, which once possessed the
highest popularity, and furnished a subject to the
dramatical genius of Marlow, Lessing, Goethe, and
others. — It is sufficiently remarkable, that the
notoriety of this romance seems to have suggested
to Shakespear the idea of sending the grand con-
ception of his brain, Hamlet, prince of Denmark,
to finish his education at the university of Wit-
tenberg.
And here it may not be uninstructive to remark
the different tone of the record of the acts of Ziito,
the Bohemian, and Faustus of Wittenburg, though
little more than half a century elapsed between
the periods at which they were written. Dubra-
vius, bishop of Olmutz in Moravia, to whose pen
we are indebted for what we know of Ziito, died in
the year 155S. He has deemed it not unbecom-
ing to record in his national history of Bohemia,
the achievements of this magician, who, he says,
exhibited them before Wenceslaus, king of the
country, at the celebration of his marriage. A
358 SABELLICU^.
waggon-load of sorcerers arrived at Prague on that
occasion for the entertainment of tine company.
But, at the close of that century, the exploits of
Faustus were no linger deei^^ entitled to a place
in national history, but' were more appropriately
taken for the them^ of a romance. Faustus and
his performances were Certainly contemplated with
at least as much horror as the deeds of Ziito. But
popular credulity was no longer wound tq so high
a pitch: the. marvels efffected by Faustus are not
represented as challenging the observation^of thou*
sands at a public court, and on the occasion of a
royal festival. They " hid their diminished heads,**
and were performed comparatively in a corner.
SABELLICUS.
A pretended magician is recorded by Naud^ as
living about this time, named Georgius Sabdlicus,
who, he says, if loftiness and arrogance of assump-
tion were enough to establish a claim to the pos-
session of supernaturd' gifts, would beyond all con-
troversy be recognised for a chief and consummate
sorcerer. It was his ambition by the most sound-
ing appellations of this nature to advance his claim
to immortal reputation. He called himself^ " The
most accomplished Georgius Sabellicus, a secqmd
Faustuis, the spring and centre of necromantic art,
an astrologer, a magician, consummate in chiro^
mancy, and in agromancy, pyromancy and, hydro-
I^ARACELSUS. S59
mancy inferior to none that ever lived." I men-
tion this the rather, as affording an additional
proof how highly Faustus was rated at the time in
which he is said to have flourished.
It is specially worthy of notice, that Naude,
whose book is a sort of register of all the most dis-
tinguished names in the annals of necromancy,
drawn up for the purpose of vindicating their
honour, noW>here mentions Faustus, except once
in this slight and cursory way.
PARACELSUS.
Paracelsus, or, as he styled himself, Philippus
Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus Paracelsus de
Hohenheim, was a man of great notoriety and emi-
nence, about the same tirne as Dr. Faustus. He
was bom in the year 1493, iand died in 1541. His
father is said to have lived in some repute ; but
the son early became a wanderer in the world,
passing his youth in the occupation of foretelling
future events by the stars and by chiromancy, in-
voking the dead, and performing various operations
of alchemy and magic. He states Trithemius to
have been his instructor in the science of metals.
He was superficial in literature, and says of him-
self that at one time he did not open a book for
ten years togetW. He visited the mines of Bo-
hemia, Sweden sad the East to perfect himself in
metallic knowledge. He travelled through Prussia,
J
S60 PARACELSUS.
Lithuania,. Poland^ Transylvania and lUyria, con-
versing indifierently with physicians and old wo-
men, that he might extract from them the practical
secrets of their art. He visited Egypt, Tartary
and Constantinople, at which last place, as he says,
he learned the transmutation of metals and the
philosopher's stone. He boasts also of the elixir
of life, by means of which he could prolong the
life of man to the age of the antediluvians. He
certainly possessed considerable sagacity and a
happy spirit of daring, which induced him to have
recourse to the application of mercury and opium
in the cure of diseases, when the regular physi-
cians did not venture on the use of them. He
therefore was successfully employed by certain
eminent persons in desperate cases, and was
consulted by Erasmus. He gradually increased
in fame, and in the year 1526 was chosen profes-
sor of natural philosophy and surgery in the uni-
versity of Bale. Here he delivered lectures in a
very bold and presumptuous style. He proclaimed
himself the monarch of medicine, and publicly
burned the writings of Galen and Avicenna as
pretenders and impostors.
This however was the acme of his prosperity.
His system was extremely popular for one year ;
but then he lost himself by brutality and intem-
perance. He had drunk water only for the first
five-and-twenty years of his life ; but now indulged
himself in beastly crapulence with the dregs of
PARACELSUS. 36 1
society, and scarcely ever took off his clothes by
day or night. After one year therefore spent at
Bale, he resumed his former vagabond life, and,
having parsed through many vicissitudes, some of
them of the most abject poverty, he died at the
age of forty-eight.
Paracelsus in fact exhibited in his person the
union of a quack, a boastful and impudent pre-
tender, with a considerable degree of natural saga-
city and shrewdness. Such an union is not un-
common in the present day; but it was more
properly in its place, when the cultivation of the
faculties of the mind was more restricted than
now, and the law of criticism of facts Bud evi-
dence was nearly unknown. He took advantage
of the credulity and love of wonder incident to the
generality of our species ; and, by dint of imposing
on others, succeeded in no small degree in im-
posing on himself. His intemperance and arro-
gance of demeanour gave the suitable finish to his
character. He therefore carefully cherished in
those about him the idea that there was in him a
kind of supernatural virtue, and that he had the
agents of an invisible world at his command. In
particular he gave out thi^t he held conferences
with a familiar or demon, whom for the conveni-
ence of consulting he was in the habit of caj:ry-
ing about with him in the hilt of his aword.
362
CARDAN.
CARDAN.
Jerome Cardan, who was only a few years
younger than Paracelsus, was a man of a very dif*
ferent character^ He had considerable refinement
and discrimination, and ranked among the first
scholars of his day. He is however most of all
distinguished for the Memoirs he has left us of his
life, which are characterised by a frankness and
unreserve which are almost without a parallel.
He had undoubtedly a- considerable spice of mad-
ness in his composition. He says of himself, that
he was liable to extraordinary fits of abstraction
and elevation ^of mind, which -by their intenseness
became so intolerable, that he gladly had recourse
to very severe bodily pain by way of getting rid of
them. That in such cases he would bitp his lips
till they bled, twist his fingers almost to disloca-
tion, and whip his legs with rods, which he found
a great relief to him. That he would talk pur-
posely of subjects which he knew were particu-
larly offensive to the company he was in ; th^
he argued on any side of a subject, without
caring whether he was right or wrong ; and that h^
would spend whole nights in gaming, often venf-
turing as the stake he played for, the furniture of
his house, and his wife's jewels.
Cardan describes three things of himself, whiqh
he habitually experienced, but respecting which
he had never unbosomed himself to any of his
CARDAN. 863
friends. The first was, a capacity wbich' he fdt in
himself of abandoning his body in a sort of extacy
whenever he pleased. He felt in these cases a
sort of splitting of the heart, as if his soul was
about to withdraw, the sensation spreading over
his whole frame, like the opening of a door for the
dismissal of its guest. His apprehension was, that
he was out of his body, and that by an energetic
•exertion he still retained a. small hold of his cor-
poreal figure. The second of his peculiarities was,
that he saw, when he pleased, whatever he desired
io see, not through the force of imagination, but
with his material organs : he saw groves, animals,
orbs, as he willed. When he was a chUd, he saw
these things, as they occurred, without any pre-
vious volition or anticipation that such a thing
•was about to happen. But, after he had arrived
at years of maturity, he saw them only when he
desired, and such things as he desired. These
images were in perpetual succession, one after an-
other. The thing incidental to him which he men-
tions in the third place was, that he could not
recollect any thing that ever happened to him,
whether good, ill, or indifferent, of which he had
not been admonished, and that a very short time
before, in a dream. These things serve to shew
of what importance he was in his own eyes, and
also, which is the matter he principally brings it
to prove, the subtlety and delicacy of his animal
nature. <
364 QUAdKS WHO SOUGHT TO CHEAT MANKIND.
Cardan speaks uncertainly and contradictorily as
to his having a genius or demon perpetually at-
tending him, advising him of what was to happen,
and forewarning him of sinister events. He con-
cludes however that he had no such attendant,
but that it was the excellence of his nature, ap-
proaching to immortality. He was much addicted
to the study of astrology, and laid claim to great
skill as a physician. He visited the court of Lon-
don, and calculated the nativity of king Edward
VI. He was sent for slA a physician by cardinal
Beaton, archbishop of St Andrews, whom, accord-
ing to Melvile% he recovered to speech and health,
and the historian appears to attribute the cure to
magic. He calculated the nativity of Jesus Christ,
which was imputed to him as an impious under-
taking, inasmuch as it supposed the creator of the
world to be subject to the influence of the stars.
He also predicted his own death, and is supposed
by some to have forwarded that ev^[^, by absti-
nence from food at the age of seventy-five, that he
might not bely his prediction.
QUACKS, WHO IN COOL BLOOD UNDERTOOK TO
OVERREACH MANKIND.
Hitherto we have principally passed such per-
sons in review, as seem to have been in part at
least the victims of their own delusions. But be-
• Memoirs, p. 14.
BENVfiNUTO CELLINI. 365
Side these there has always been a numerous class
of men, who, with minds perfectly disengaged and
free, have applied themselves to concert the means^
of overreaching the simplicity, or baflBing the pene-
tration, of those who were merely spectators, and
uninitiated in the mystery of the arts that were
practised upon them. Such was no doubt the case
with the speaking heads and statues, which were
sometimes exhibited in the ancietit oracles. Such
was the case with certain optifcal delusions, which
were practised on the unsuspecting, and were con-
trived to produce on them the effect of superna-
tural revelations. Such is the story of Bel and
the Dragon in the book of Apocrypha, where the
priests daily placed before thfe idol twelve measures
of flour, and forty sheep, and six vessels of wine,
pretending that the idol consumed all these provi-
sions, when in fact they entered the temple by
night, by a door under the altar, and removed
them.
BENVENUTO CELLINI.
We have a story minutely related by Benvenuto
Cellini in his Life, which it is now known was
produced by optical delusion, but which was im-
posed upon the artist and his companions as alto-
gether supernatural* It occurred a very short
time before the death of pope Clement the Seventh
in 1534, and is thus detailed. It took place in the
Coliseum at Rome.
366 3BNVENUTO GELUNI,
" It c^me to puss tfatQiigh a variety of odd acci-
dents, that I m9,de acqu9lntanc0 with a Sicilian
priei^t, who/v^as a m^n of genius, and well versed
in the Greek and Latin languages. Happening
one day to hp^ve some conversation with him,
where the ^ul^ject turned upon the art of necro-
mancy, I, who had a great desire to know some-
thing of the matter, told him, that I had all my
life had a curiosity to be acquainted with the mys-
teries of this art. The priest made answer, that
the man must^be of a resolute. and steady temper,
who entei-ed on that study. I replied, that I had
fortitude and resolution enough to desire to be
initiated in it. The priest subjoined, * If you think
you have the heart to venture, I will give ynou all
%he, satisfaction you can desire.' Thus we agreed
to enter upon a scheme of necromancy.
"The priest oue evening prepared to satisfy me,
and desired me to look fpr a companion or two.
I invited one Vincenzio Romoli, who was my in-
timate acquaintance, and he brought with him a
native of Pistoia who cultivated the art of necro-
mancy himself. We repaired to the Coliseum;
and the priest, according to the custom of con-
jurors, began to draw circles on the ground, with
the most, impressive ceremonies imaginable. He
likewise brought, with him all sorts of precious per-
fumes and fire, with some compositions which dif-
fused noisome and bad odours. As soon a? he was
in readiness, he made an opening to the circle, and
BRNVENUTO CfiLLINI. S&J
tacdc US by the h^d^ and ordered the other necror
mancer, his partner, to throw perfumes into the
fire at a proper time, intrusting the care of the fire
and the perfumes to the rest ; and then he began
his incantations.
" This ceremony lasted above an hour and a
half, when there appeared several legions of devils^
so that the amphitheatre was quite filled with them.
I was busy about the perfumes, when the priest,
who knew that there was a suflBcient number of
infernal spirits, turned about to me, and said, *Ben-
venuto, ask them something/ I answered, * Let
them bring me into company with my Sicilian
mistress, Angelica/ That night we obtained no
answer of any sort; but I received great satis-
faction in having my curiosity so far indulged.
" The necrommicer told me that it was requisite
Y^e should go a second timje, assuring me that I
should be satisfied in whatever I asked j but that
I must bring with me a boy that had never known
woman. I took with me my apprentice, who was
about twelve years of age; with the same Vin-
cenzio Romoli, who had been my companion the
first time, and one Agnolino Gaddi, an intimate
acquaintance, whom I likewise prevailed on to
assist at the ceremony. When we came to^ the
place appointed, the priest, having made his pre-
parations as before with the same and even more
striking ceremonies, placed us within the circle,
which he had dra.wn with a more wonderful art
368 BENVENUTO CELLINI.
and in a more solemn manner, than at our former
meeting. Thus having committed the care of the
perfumes and the fire to my friend Vincenzio, who
was assisted by Gaddi, he put into my hands a
pintacolo, or magical chart, and bid me turn it
towards the places to which he. should direct me ;
and under the pintacolo I held my apprentice.
The necromancer, having begun to make his most
tremendous invocations, called by their, names a
multitude of demons who were the leaders of the
several legions, and questioned them, by the virtue
and power of the eternal, uncreated God, who lives
for ever, in the Hebrew language, as also in Latin and
Greek ; insomuch that the amphitheatre was fiUed,
almost in an instant, with demons a hundred times
more numerous than at the former conjuration.
Vincenzio meanwhile was busied in making a fire
with the assistance of Gaddi, and burning a great
quantity of precious perfumes. I, by the direction
of the necromancer, again desired to be in com-
pany with my Angelica. He then turning upon
me said, * Know, they have declared that in the
space of a month you shall be in her company.'
" He then requested me to stand by him reso-
lutely, because the legions were now above a
thousand more in number than he had designed ;
supd besides these were the most dangerous; so
that, after they had answered my question, it be-
hoved him to be civil to them, and dismiss them
quietly. At the same time the boy under the
BENVENUTO CELLINI. 369
pintacolo was in a terrible frl^t, saying, that
there were in the place a million of fierce men
who threatened to destroy us ; and that, besides,
there were four armed giants of enormous stature,
who endeavoured to break into our circle. During
this time, while the necromancer, trembling with
fear, endeavoured by mild means to dismiss them
in the best way he could, Vincenzio, who quivered
like an aspen leaf, took care of the perfumes.
Though I was as much afraid as any of them, I
did my utmost to conceal it; so that I greatly
contributed to inspire the rest with resolution :
but the truth is, I gave myself over for a d^ad man,
seeing the horrid fright the necromancer was in.
"The boy had placed his head between his
knees ; and said, * In this attitude will I die ; for
we shall all surely perish.' I told him that those
demons were under us, and what he saw was
smoke and shadow ; so bid him hold up his head
and take courage. No sooner did he look up,
than he cried out, *The whole amphitheatre is burn-
ing, and the fire is just falling on us.' So, covering
his eyes with his hands, he again exclaimed, that
destruction was inevitable, and he desired to see
no more. The necromancer intreated me to have
a good heart, and to take care to burn proper per-
fumes ; upon which I turned to Vincenzio, and
bade him bum all the most precious perfumes he
had. At the same time I cast my eyes upon Gaddi,
who was terrified to such a degree, that he could
2b
370 BENVENUTO CELLINI.
scarcely distinguish objects, and seemed to be half
dead. Seeing him in this condition, I said to binH
* Gaddi, upon these occasions a man should not
yield to fear, but stir about to give some assist-
ance ; so come directly, and put on more of these
perfumes.' Gaddi accordingly attempted to move;
but the effect was annoying both to our sense of
hearing and smell, and overcame the perfumes.
" The boy perceiving this, once more ventured
to raise his head, and, seeing me laugh, began to
take courage, and said, *The devils are flying
away with a vengeance.' In this condition we
staid, till the bell rang for morning prayers. The
boy again told us, that there remained but few
devils, and those were at a great distance. When
the magician had performed the rest of his cere-
monies, he stripped off his gown, and took up a
wallet full of books, which he had brought with
him. We all went out of the circle together,
keeping as close to each other as we possibly could,
especially the boy, who placed himself in the
middle, holding the necromancer by the coat, and
me by the cloak.
" As we were going to our houses in the quarter
of Banchi, the boy told us, that two of the de-
mons whom^ we had seen at the amphitheatre,
went on before us leaping and skipping, some-
times running upon the roofs of the houses, and
sometimes on the ground. The priest declared
that, ^ often as he had entered magic circles,
BENVENUTO CELLINI. 3?!
nothing so extraordinary had ever happened to
him. As we went along, he would fain have per-
suaded me to assist at the consecrating a book,
from which he said we should derive immense
riches. We should then ask the demons to dis-
cover to us the various treasures with which the
earth abounds, which would raise us to opulence
and power : but that those love-affairs were mere
follies from which no good could be expected. I
made answer, that I would readily have accepted
his proposal if I had understood Latin. He as-
sured me that the knowledge of Latin was nowise
material ; but that he could never meet with a
partner of resolution and intrepidity equal to mine,
and that that would be to him an invaluable ac-
quisition.'* Immediately subsequent to this scene,
Cellini got into one of those scrapes, in which
he was so frequently involved by his own violence
and ferocity ; and the connection was never again
renewed.
The first remark that arises out of this narrative
is, that nothing is actually done by the superna-
tural personages which are exhibited. The ma-
gician reports certain answers as given by the
demons ; but these answers do not appear to have
been heard from any lips but those of him who was
the creator or cause of the scene. The whole of
the demons therefore were merely figures, produced
by the magic lantern (which is said to have been
invented by Roger Bacon), or by something of
2b2
37^ NOSTRADAMUS.
that nature. The burning of the perfumes served
to produce a dense atmosphere, that was calcur
lated to exaggerate, and render more formidable
and terrific, the figures which were exhibited.
The magic lantern, which is now the amusement
only of servant-maids, and boys at school in their
holidays, served at this remote period, and when
the power of optical delusions was unknown, to
terrify men of wisdom and penetration, and make
them believe that legions of devils from the inferr
nal regions were come among them, to produce the
most horrible effects, and suspend and invert the
laws of nature. It is probable, that the magician,
who carried home with him a "wallet full of
books,'* also carried at the same time the magic
lantern or mirror, with its lights, which had served
him for his exhibition, and that this was the cause
of the phenomenon, that they observed two of the
demons which they had seen at the amphitheatre,
going before them on their return, " leaping and
skipping, sometimes running on the roofs of the
houses, and sometimes on the ground •"
NOSTRADAMUS.
Michael Nostradamus, a celebrated astrologer,
was born at St. Remi in Provence in the year
1503. He published a Century of Prophecies in
obscure and oracular terms and barbarous verse,
* Brewster, Letters on Natural Magic, Letter IV.
DOCTOR DEE. 87^
and other works. In the period in which he
Hved the pretended art of astrological prediction
was in the highest repute ; and its professors were
sought for by emperors and kings, and entertained
with the greatest distinction and honour. Henry
the Second of France, moved with his great renown,
sent for Nostradamus to court, received much gra-
tification from his visit, and afterward ordered him
to Blois, that he might see the princes, his sons,
calculate their horoscopes, and predict their future
fortunes. He was no less in favour afterwards with
Charles the Ninth. He died in the year 1566.
DOCTOR DEE.
Dr. John Dee was a man who made a conspicu-
ous figure in the sixteenth century. He was bom
at London in the year 1527. He was an eminent
mathematician, and an indefatigable scholar. He
says of himself, that, having been sent to Cam-
bridge when he was fifteen, he persisted for several
years in allowing himself only four hours for sleep
in the twenty-four, and two for food and refresh-
ment, and that he constantly occupied the remain-
ing eighteen (the time for divine service only ex-
cepted) in study. At Cambridge he superintended
the exhibition of a Greek play of Aristophanes,
among the machinery of which he introduced an
artificial scarabasus, or beetle, which flew up to
the palace of Jupiter, with a man on his back, and
374 DOCTOR DEE.
a basket of provisions. The ignorant and asto-
nished spectators ascribed this feat to the arts of
the magician ; and Dee, annoyed by these sus-
picions, found it expedient to withdraw to the
continent. Here he resided first at the university
of Louvaine, at which place, his acquaintance was
courted by the dukes of Mantua and Medina, and
from thence proceeded to Paris, where he gave
lectures on Euclid with singular applause.
In 1551 he returned to England, and was re-
ceived with distinction by sir John Cheek, and
introduced to secretary Cecil, and even to king
Edward, from whom he received a pension of one
hundred crowns per annum, which he speedily
after exchanged for a small living in the church.
In the reign of queen Mary he was for some
time kindly treated; but afterwards came into
great trouble, and even into danger of his life. He
entered into correspondence with several of the
servants of queen Elizabeth at Woodstock, and
was charged with practising against Mary's life by
enchantments. Upon this accusation, he was seized
and confined ; and, being after several examina-
tions discharged of the indictment, was turned
over to bishop Bonner to see if any heresy could
be found in him. After a tedious persecution he
was set at liberty in 1555, and was so little sub-
dued by what he had suffered, that in the follow-
ing year he presented a petition to the queen, re-
questing her co-operation in a plan for preserving
DOCTOR DEE. 375
and recovering certain monuments of classical an-
tiquity.
The principal study of Dee however at this
time lay in astrology ; and accordingly, upon the
accession of Elizabeth, Robert Dudley, her chief
favourite, was sent to consult the doctor as to the
aspect of the stars, that they might fix on an aus-
picious day for celebrating her coronation. Some
years after we find him again on the continent ; and
in 1571, being taken ill at Louvaine, we are told
the queen sent over two physicians to accomplish
his cure. Elizabeth afterwards visited him at his
house at Mortlake, that she might view his maga-
zine of mathematical instruments and curiosities ;
and about this time employed him to defend her
title to countries discovered in difierent parts of
the globe. He says of himself, that he received
the most advantageous offers from Charles V, Fer-
dinand, Maximilian II, and Rodolph II, emperors
of Germany, and fi:om the czar of Muscovy an of-
fer, of £2000 sterling per annwrij upon condition
that he would reside in his dominions. All these
circumstances were solemnly attested by Dee in a
Compendious Rehearsal of his Life and Studies for
half-a-century, composed at a later period, and
read by him at his house at Mortlake to two com-
missioners appointed by Elizabeth to enquire into
his circumstances, accompanied with evidences
and documents to establish the particulars .
* Appendix to Johannes Glastoniensis, edited by Hearne..
876 DOCTOR DEB.
Had Dee gone no further than this, he would
undoubtedly have ranked among the profoundest
scholars and most eminent geniuses that adorned
the reign of the maiden queen. But he was un-
fortunately cursed with an ambition that nothing
could satisfy ; and, having accustomed his mind
to the wildest reveries, and wrought himself up to
an extravagant pitch of enthusiasm, he pursued a
course that involved him in much calamity, and
clouded all his latter days with misery and ruin.
He dreamed perpetually of the philosopher's stone,
and was haunted with the belief of intercourse of a
supramundane character. It is almost impossible
to decide among these things, how much was iUu-
sipn, and how much was forgeiy. Both were inex-
tricably mixed in his proceedings; and this extraor-
dinary victim probably could not in his most dis-
passionate moments precisely distinguish what be-
longed to the one, and what to the other.
As Dee was an enthusiast, so he perpetually in-
terposed in his meditations prayers of the great-
est emphasis and fervour. As he was one day
in November 1582, engaged in these devout ex-
ercises, he says that there appeared to him the
angel Uriel at the west window of his Museum,
who gave him a translucent stone, or chrystal, of
a convex form, that had the quality, when in-
tently surveyed, of presenting apparitions, and
even emitting sounds, in consequence of which
the observer could hold conversations, ask ques-
I>OCTOR DEE. ^ 377
tions and receive answersfirom the figures he saw
in the mirror. It was often necessary that the
stone should be turned one way and another in difc
ferent positions, before the person who consulted
it gained the right focus ; and then the objects to
be observed would sometimes shew themselves on
the surface of the stone, and sometime in differ-
ent parts of the room by virtue of the action of the
stone. It had also this peculiarity, that only one
person, having been named as seer, could see the
figures exhibited, and hear the voices that spoke,
though there might be various persons in the room.
It appears that the person who discerned these
visions must have his eyes and his ears uninterrupt-
edly engaged in the affair, so that, as Dee experi-
enced, to render the communication effectual, there
must be two human beings concerned in the scene,
one of them to describe what he saw, and to recite
the dialogue that took place, and the other im-
mediately to commit to paper all that his partner
dictated. Dee for some reason chose for himself
the part of the amanuensis, and had to seek for a
companion, who was to watch the stone, and re-
peat to him whatever he saw and heard.
It happened opportunely that, a short time be*
fore Dee received this gift fi:om on high, he con-
tracted a familiar intercourse with one Edward
Kelly of Worcestershire, whom he found specially
qualified to perform the part which it was neces-
sary to Dee to have adequately filled. Kelly was
378 DOCTOR DEE. .
an extraordinary character, and in some respects
exactly such a person as Dee wanted. He was
just twenty-eight years younger than the memo-
rable personage, who now received him as an in-
mate, and was engaged in his service at a stipu-
lated salary of fifty pounds a year.
Kelly entered upon life with a somewhat unfor-
tunate adventure. He was accused, when a young
man, of forgery, brought to trial, convicted, and
lost his ears in the pillory. This misfortune how-
ever by no means daunted him. He was assidu-
ously engaged in the search for the philosopher's
stone. He had an active mind, great enterprise,
and a very domineering temper. Another adven-
ture in which he had been engaged previously to .
his knowledge of Dee, was in digging up the body
of a man, who had been buried only the day be-
fore, that he might compel him by incantations,
to answer questions, and discover future events.
There was this difference therefore between the
two persons previously to their league. Dee was
a man of regular manners and unspotted life, ho-
noured by the great, and favourably noticed by
crowned heads in different parts of the world;
while Kelly was a notorious profligate, accustomed
to the most licentious actions, and under no re-
straint from morals or principle.
One circumstance that occurred early in the
acquaintance of Kelly and Dee it is necessary to
mention. It serves strikingly to illustrate the as-
DOCTOR DEE, 379
cendancy of the junior and impetuous party over
his more gifted senior. Kelly led Dee, we are not
told under what pretence, to visit the celebrated
ruins of Glastonbury Abbey in Somersetshire.
Here, as these curious travellers searched into every
corner of the scene, they met by some rare acci-
dent with a vase containing a certain portion of
the actual elixir vitoe^ that rare and precious liquid,
so much sought after, which has the virtue of con-
verting the baser metals into gold and silver. It
had remained here perhaps ever since the time of
the highly-gifted St, Dunstan in the tenth century.
This they carried off in triumph : but we are not
told of any special use to which they applied it,
till a few years after, when they were both on the
continent.
The first record of their consultations with the
supramundane spirits, was of the date of December
2, i581, at Lexden Heath in the county of Es-
sex ; and from this time they went on in a regular
series of consultations with and enquiries fi*om
these miraculous visitors, a great part of which
will appear to the uninitiated extremely puerile
and ludicrous, but which were committed to writ-
ing with the most scrupulous exactness by Dee,
the first part still existing in manuscript, but the
greater portion from 28 May 1583 to 1608, with
some interruptions, having been committed to the
press by Dr. Meric Casaubon in a well-sized folio
in 1659, under the title of "A True and Faithful
380 DOCTOR DEE.
Relation of what passed between Dr. John Dee
and some Spirits, tending, had it succeeded, to a
general alteration of most states and kingdoms of
the world.**
Kelly and Dee had not long been engaged in
these supernatural colloquies, before an event oc-
curred which gave an entirely new turn to their
proceedings. Albert Alaski, a Polish nobleman,
lord palatine of the principality of Siradia, came
over at this time into England, urged, as he
said, by a desire personally to acquaint himself
with the glories of the reign of Elizabeth, and the
evidences of her unrivalled talents. The queen
and her favourite, the earl of Leicester, received
him with every mark of courtesy and attention,
and, having shewn him all the wonders of her
court at Westminster and Greenwich, sent him to
Oxford, with a command to the dignitaries and
heads of colleges, to pay him every attention, and
to lay open to his view all their rarest curiosi-
ties. Among other things worthy of notice, Alas-
ki enquired for the celebrated Dr. Dee, and ex-
pressed the greatest impatience to be acquainted
with him.
Just at this juncture the earl of Leicester hap^
pened to spy Dr. Dee among the crowd who at-
tended at a royal levee. The earl immediately
advanced towards him ; and, in his frank manner,
having introduced him to Alaski, expressed his
intention of bringing the Pole to dine with the
DOCTOR DEE. S81
doctor at his house at Mbrtlake. Embarrassed
with this unexpected honour. Dee no sooner got
home, than he dispatched an express to the earl,
honestly confessing that he should be unable to
entertain such guests in a suitable manner, with*
put being reduced to the expedient of selling or
pawning his plate, to procure him the means of
doing so. Leicester communicated the doctor's
perplexity to Elizabeth ; and the queen immedi-
ately dispatched a messenger with a present of forty
angels, or twenty pounds, to enable him to receive
his guests as became him.
A great intimacy immediately commenced be-
tween Dee and the stranger. Alaski, though pos-
sessing an extensive territory, was reduced by the
prodigality of himself or bis ancestors to much
embarrassment ; and on the other hand this noble-
man appeared to Dee an instrument well qualified
to accomplish his ambitious purposes. Alaski was
extremely desirous to look into the womb of time ;
and Dee, it is likely, suggested repeated hints of
his extraordinary power from his possession of the
philosopher's stone. After two or three interviews,
and much seeming importunity on the part of the
Pole, Dee and Kelly graciously condescended to
admit Alaski as a third party to their secret meet-
ings with their supernatural visitors, from which
the rest of the world were carefully excluded. Here
the two Englishmen made use of the vulgar arti-
fice, of promising extraordinary good fortune to
382 DOCTOR DEE.
the person of whom they purposed to make use.
By the intervention of the miraculous stone they
told the wondering traveller, that he should shortly
become king of Poland, with the accession of se-
veral other kingdoms, that he should overcome
many armies of Saracens and Paynims, and prove
a mighty conqueror. Dee at the same time com-
plained of the disagreeable condition in which he
was at home, and that Burleigh and Walsingham
were his malicious enemies. At length they con-
certed among themselves, that they, Alaski, and
Dee and Kelly with their wives and families,
should clandestinely withdraw out of England, and
proceed with all practicable rapidity to Alaski*s
territory in the kingdom of Poland. They em-
barked on this voyage 21 September, and arrived
at Siradia the third of February following.
At this place however the strangers remained
little more than a month. Alaski found his finances
in such disorder, that it was scarcely possible for
him to feed the numerous guests he had brought
along with him. The promises of splendid con-
quests which Dee and Kelly profusely heaped upon
him, were of ho avail to supply the deficiency of
his present income. And the elixir they brought
from Glastonbury was, as they said, so incredibly
rich in virtue, that they were compelled to lose
much time in making projection by way of trial,
before they could hope to arrive at the proper tem-
perament for producing the effect they desired.
DOCTOR DEE. 388
In the following month Alaski with his visitors
passed to Cracow, the residence of the kings of Po-
land. Here they remained five months, Dee and
Kelly perpetually amusing the Pole with the extra-
ordinary virtue of the stone, which had been
brought from heaven by an angel, and busied in a
thousand experiments with the elixir, and many
tedious preparations which they pronounced to
be necessary, before the compound could have
the proper effect. The prophecies were uttered
with extreme confidence ; but no external indi-
cations were afforded, to shew that in any way
they were likely to be realised. The experiments
arid exertions of the laboratory weare incessant ;
but no transmutation was produced. At length
Alaski found himself unable to sustain the train of
followers he had brought out of England. With
mountains of wealth, the treasures of the world
promised, they were reduced to the most grievous
straits for the means of daily subsistence. Finally
the zeal of Alaski diminished ; he had no longer
the same faith in the projectors that had deluded
him ; and he devised a way of sending them for-
ward with letters of recommendation to Rodolph II,
emperor of Germany, at his imperial seat of Prague,
where they arrived on the ninth of August.
Rodolph was a man, whose character and habits
of life they judged excellently adapted to their pur-
pose. Dee had a long conference with the empe-
ror, in which he explained to him what wonderful
884 DOCTOR DEE.
things the spirits promised to this prince, in case
he proved exemplary of life, and obedient to their
suggestions, that he should be the greatest con-
queror in the world, and should take captive the
Turk in his city of Constantinople. Rodolph was
extremely courteous in his reception, and sent away
Dee with the highest hopes that he had at length
found a personage with whom he should infallibly
succeed to the extent of his wishes. He sought?
however a second interview, and was baffled. At
one time the emperor was going to his country
palace near Prague, and at another was engaged in
the pleasures of the chace.
He also complained that he was not sufficiently
familiar with the Latin tongue, to manage the con*
ferences with Dee in a satisfiictory manner in
person. He therefore deputed Curtzius, a man
high in his confidence, to enter into the necessary
details with lus learned visitor. Dee also contrived
to have Spinola, the ambassador from Madrid to
the court of the emperor, to urge his suit. The
final result was that Rodolph declined any forther
intercourse with Dee. He turned a deaf ear to
his prophecies, and professed to be altogether void
of faith as to his promises respecting the philoso-
pher's stone. Dee however was led on perpetually
with hopes of better things from the emperor, till
the spring of the year 1585. At length he was
obliged to fly from Prague, the bishop of Placentia,
the pope's nuncio, having it in command from his
DOCTOR DEEf 385
holin^s to represent to Rojdolph how 4iscreditable
it was for him to harbour English magicians, he-
retics, at his court. ,
From Prague Dee and hi$ followers proceed to
Cracow. Here he found means of introduction to
Stephen, king of Poland, tp whom immediately he
insinuated as intelligence from heaven, that iR^o-
dolph, the emperor, would speedily be assassinated,
and that Stephen would succeed him in. the throne
of Germany. Stephen appears to have received
Dee with more condescension than Rodolph had
done, and was once present at his incantation
and interview with the invisible spirits. Dee
also lured him on \ifith promises respecting the
philosopher's stope. Meanwhile the magician was
himself reduced to th^ strangest expedients for
subsistence. He appears to have daily expected
great riches frpm the transmutation of metals, and
was unwilling ,tQ confess that he and his family werq
in the mean time almost starving.
When king Stephen at length beqame wearied
with fruitless expectation, Dee was fortunate enough
to meet with another and more psatient dupe in
Rosenbin-g, a nobleman of coij^iderable wealth at
Trebona in the kingdom of Bohemia. Here Dee
appears to have remained till 1589) when he was
sent for home by Elizabeth. Jn ,what manner he
proceeded during this interval, and from whence
he drew his supplies, weare only left to conjecture.
He lured op his victim with the uiaual temptation,
2 c
386 DOCTOR DEE.
promising him that he should be king of Poland.
In the mean time it is recorded by him, that, on
the ninth of December, 1586, he arrived at the
point of projection, having cut a piece of metal out
of a brass warming-pan ; and merely heating it by
the fire, and pouring on it a portion of the elixir,
it was presently converted into pure silver. We
are told that he sent the warming-pan and the piece
of silver to queen Elizabeth, that she might be
convinced by her own eyes how exactly they tallied,
and that the one had unquestionably been a portion
of the other. About the same time it is said,
that Dee and his associate became more free
in their expenditure; and in one instance it is
stated as an example, that Kelly gave away to th^
value of four thousand pounds sterling in gold rings
on occasion of the celebration of the marriage of
one of his maid-servants. On the twenty-seventh
and thirtieth of July, 1587, Dee has recorded in
his journal his gratitude to God for his unspeakable
mercies on those days imparted, which has been
interpreted to mean further acquisitions of wealth
by means of the elixir.
Meanwhile perpetual occasions of dissention
occurred between the two great confederates,
Kelly and Dee. They were in many respects
unfitted for each other's society. Dee was a man,
who from his youth upward had been indefa*
tigable in study and research, had the oonscioOs-
ness of great talents and intellect, and had been
DOCTOR DEE. 887
universally recognised as such, and had possessed
a high character for fervent piety and blameless
morals. Kelly was an impudent adventurer, a
man of no principles and of blasted reputation ;
yet fertile in resources, full of self-confidence, and
of no small degree of ingenuity. In their mutual
intercourse the audacious adventurer often had
the upper hand of the man who had lately pos-
sessed a well-earned reputation. Kelly frequently
professed himself tired of enacting the character of
interpreter of the Gods under Dee. He found Dee
in all cases running away with the superior conside-
ration ; while he in his own opinion best deserved
to possess it. The straitness of their circum-
stances, and th€ misery they were occasionally
called on to endure, we may be sure did not im-
prove their good understanding. Kelly once and
again threatened to abandon his leader. Dee
continually soothed him, and prevailed on him to
stay.
Kelly at length started a very extraordinary
proposition. Kelly, as interpreter to the spirits,
and being the only person who heard and saw any
thing, we may presume made them say whatever
he pleased. Kelly and Dee had both of them
wives. Kelly did not always live harmoniously
with the partner of his bed. He sometimes went
so far as to say that he hated her. Dee was
more fortunate. His wife was a person of good
family, and had hitherto been irreproachable in
2 c 2
S88 DOCTOR DEE4
her demeanour. The spirits one. day revealedito
Kejly, that they must henceforth have their wives
in common. The wife of Kelly was barren, and
this curse could no otherwise be removed. Having
started the proposition, Ktelly played the reluctant
party. Dee, who was pious and enthusiastic, in-
clined to submit; He first indeed started the
notion, that it could only be meant that they
should live in mutual harmony and good underr
standing. The spirits protested against this, and
insisted upon the literal interpretation; Dee
yielded, and compared his case to that of Abra-
ham, who at the divine command donsented to
sacrifice his son Isaac. Kelly alleged that these
spirits, which Dee had hitherto regarded as mes^
sengers firom God, could be no other than servants
of Satan. He persisted in his disobedience ^ aa4
the spirits declared that he was no longer worthy
to be their interpreter, and that another mediator
must be found.
They named Arthur Dee, the son of the pos-
sessor of the stone, a promising and well-disposed
boy of only eight years of age. Dee consecrated
the youth accordingly to his high function by
prayers and religious rites for several days together.
Kelly took horse and rode away, protesting that
they should meet no more. Arthur entered upon
his office, April 15, 1587. The experiment proved
abortive. He saw something ; but not to the purr
pose. He b^rd no voices. At length Kelly, on
DOCTOH DEE. 3^9
tile third day, entered the room unexpectedly,
"by miraculous fortune,*' as Dee says, "or a
divine fate,'* sate down between them, and imme-
diately saw figures, and heard voices, which the
little Arthur was not enabled to perceive. In par-
ticular he saw four heads iqclosed in an obelisk,
which he perceived to represent the two magicians
and their wives, and interpreted to signify that
unlimited communion in which they were destined
to engage. The matter however being still an
occasion of scruple, a spirit appeared, who by the
language he used was plainly no other than the
Saviour of the world,, and took away from them
the larger stone ; for now it appears there were
two stones. This miracle at length induced all
parties to submit ; and the divine command was
no sooner obeyed, than the stone which had been
abstracted, was found again under the pillow of
the wife of Dee.
It is not easy to imagine a state of greater de-
gradation than that into which this person had now
&llen. During all the prime and vigour of his in-
tellect, he had sustained an eminent part among
the learned and the great, distinguished and ho-
noured by Elizabeth and her favourite. But his
unbounded arrogsmce and self-opinion could never
be satisfied. And seduced, partly by.^ his own
weakness, and partly by the ifasinu^ions of a
crafty adventurer, he becipne a mystic of the most
dishonourable sort. He was induced to believe in
S90 DOCTOR DEE.
a series of miraculous communicatiohs without
common sense, engaged in the pursuit of the philo-
sopher's stone, and no doubt imagined that he was
possessed of the great secret. Stirred up by these
conceptions, he left his native country, and became
a wanderer, preying upon the credulity of one
prince and eminent man after another, and no
sooner was he discarded by one victim of credulity,
than he sought another, a vagabond on the earth,
reduced from time to time to the greatest distress,
persecuted, dishonoured and despised by every
party in their turn. At length by incessant de-
grees he became dead to all moral distinctions,
and all sense of honour and self-respect. " Profess-
ing himself to be wise he became a fool, walked in
the vanity of his imagination,'' and had his under-
standing under total eclipse. The immoral system
of conduct in which he engaged, and the strange
and shocking blasphemy that he mixed with it^
render him iat this time a sort of character that it
is painful to contemplate.
Led on as Dee at this time was by the ascend-
ancy and consummate art of Kelly, there was far
from existing any genuine harmony between them ;
and, after many squabbles and heart-burnings, they
appear finally to have parted in January 1589, Dee
having, according to his own account, at that time
delivered up to Kelly, the elixir and the different
implements by which the transmutation of metals
was to be effected.
DOCTOR DEEi 391
Various overtures appear to have passed now
for some years between Dee and queen Elizabeth,
intended to lead to his restoration to his native
country. Dee had upon diflFerent occasions ex-
pressed a wish to that effect ; and Elizabeth in the
spring of 1589 sent him a message, that removed
from him all further thought of hesitation and de-
lay. He set out from Trebona with three coaches,
and a baggage train correspondent, and had an
audience of the queen at Richmond towards the
close of that year. Upon the whole it is impos-
sible perhaps not to believe, that Elizabeth was in-
fluenced in this proceeding by the various reports
that had reached her of his extraordinary success
with the philosopher's stone, and the boundless
wealth he had it in his power to bestow. Many
princes at this time contended with each other, as
to who should be happy enough by fair means of
by force to have under his control the fortunate
possessor of the great secret, and thus to have in
his possession the means of inexhaustible wealth.
Shortly after this time the emperor Rodolph seized
and committed to prison Kelly, the partner of Dee
in this inestimable faculty, and, having once en-
larged him, placed him in custody a second time.
Meanwhile Elizabeth is said to have made him
pressing overtures of so flattering a nature that
he determined to escape and return to his native
country. For this purpose he is said to have torn
the sheets of his bed, and twisted them into a rope,
892 DOCTOR DEE.
that by that m^ans he might descend from the
tower in which he was <:6nfined. But, being a
cotpulent man of considerable weight, the rope
broke with him before he was half way down, and,
having fractured one or both his legs, and being
otherwise considerably bruised, he died shortly
afterwards. This happened in the year 1595.
Dee (according to his own account, delivered to
commissioners appoiijted by queen Elizabeth to
enquire into his circumstances) came frotfi Tre-
boiia to England in a state little inferior to that of
an ambassador. He had three coaches, with four
horses harnessed to each coach, two or three loaded
Waggons, and a guard, sometimes of si:ft, and some-
times of twenty-four soldiers, to defend him from
enemies, who were supposed to lie in wait to in-
tercept his passage. Immediately on his arrival he
had an audience of the queen at Richmond, by
whom he was most graciously received. She gave
special orders, that he should do what he would in
chemistry and philosophy, and that no one should
oti any account molest him.
But here end the prosperity and greatness of
this extraordinary man. If he possessed the power
of turning all baser metals into golc^ he certainly
acted unadvisedly in surrendering this power to
his confederate, immediately before his return to
his native country. He parted at the same time
with his gift of prophecy, since, though he brought
away with him his miraculous stone, and at one
DOCTOR ©BIS. 393-
iimid appointed one Bartholomew, and another one
Hickiifmn, his iiiterpf6ters to look into the stone,
i^ see the marvellous sights itwas^xpet^ed to dis-
close, and to hear the voices and report* the words
that issued from it, the experiments proved in bofft
instances abortive. They wanted the finer sense,
or the unparalleled effrontery and inexhaustiUe in-
vention, which K^lly alone possessed.
l^he remainder of the voyage of the life of Dee
was *^ bound in shallows and in miseries.*' Queen
Elizabeth we may suppose soon found that her
dreams of immense wealth to be obtained through
his intervention were nugatory. Yet would she
not desert the favourite of her former years. He
presently began to complain of poverty and diflS-
culties. He represented that the revenue of two
livings he held in the church had been withheld
from him from the time of his going abroad. He
stated that, shortly after that period, his house had
been broken into and spoiled by a lawless mob, in-
stigated by his ill fame as a dealer in prohibited
and unlawful arts. They destroyed or dispersed
his library, consisting of four thousand volumes,
sev^n hundred of which were manuscripts, and of
inestimable rarity. They ravaged his collection of
curious implements ^nd machines. He enume-
rated the expences of his journey home by Eliza-
beth's command, for which he seiemed to<}<msid^
the queen as his debtor. Elizabeth in c<H^sequence
ordered him at several times two or three smdil
394 DOCTOR DEE.
sums. But this being insufficient^ she was pre-
vailed upon in 1592 to appoint two members
of her privy council to repair to his house at
Mortlake to enquire into particulars^ to whom he
made a Compendious Rehearsal of half a hundred
years of his life, accompanied with documents and
vouchers.
It is remarkable that in this Rehearsal no men-
tion occurs of the miraculous stone brought down
to him by an angel, or of his pretensions respect-
ing the transmutation of metals. He merely rests
his claims to public support upon his literary la*
hours, and the acknowledged eminence of his in-
tellectual faculties. He passes over the years he
had lately spent in foreign countries, in entire
sileiice, unless we except his account of the parti-
culars of his journey home. His representation
to Elizabeth not being immediately productive of
all the effects he expected, he wrote a letter to
archbishop Whitgift two years after, lamenting
the delay of the expected relief, and complaining
of the " untrue reports, opinions and fables, which
had for so many years been spread of his studies.**
He represents these studies purely as literary,
frank, and wholly divested of. mystery. If the
" True Relation of what passed for many years
between Dr. Dee and certain Spirits" had not been
preserved, and afterwards printed, we might have
been disposed to consider all that was said on this
subject as a calumny.
DOCTOR DEB. 895
The promotion which Dee had set bi« heart on,
was to the oflSce of master of St. Cross's Hospital
near Winchester, which the queen had promised
him when the present holder should be made a
bishop. But this never happened. He obtained
however in lieu of it the chancellorship of St;
Paul's cathedral, 8 December 1594, which in the
following year he exchanged for the wardenship
of the college at Manchester. In this last office
he continued till the year 1602 (according to
other accounts 1604), during which time he com-
plained of great dissentions and refractoriness on
the part of the fellows ; though it may perhaps be
doubted whether equal blame may not fairly be
imputed to the arrogance and restlessness of the
warden. At length he receded altogether from
public life, and retired to his ancient domicile at
Mortlake. He made one attempt to propitiate
the favour of king James ; but it was ineffectual.
Elizabeth had known him in the flower and vigour
of his days ; he had boasted the uniform patronage
of her chief favourite ; he had been recognised by
the philosophical and the learned as inferior to none
of their body; and he had finally excited the regard
of his ancient mistress by his pretence to revelations,
and the promises he held out of the philosopher's
stone. She could not shake off her ingrafted prej u-
dice in his favour ; she could not find in her heart
to cast him aside in his old age and decay. But
then came a king, to whom in his prosperity and sun-
396 DOCTOR TTEE.
9hine be had: been a stranger. lie ^wasted his
latter days in dotage, obscurity aiwi universal
neglect. No one has told us how he contrived to
subsist. We may be sure that his constant com-
panions were mortification and the most humili-
ating pri^tions. He lingered on till the year
I6O8 ; and the ancient people in the time of An-
tony Wood, nearly a c^itury afterwards, p<yinted
to his grave in the chancel of the di^rch'M Mort-
lake, and professed to know the very spot where
his remains were desposited.
The history of Dee is exceedingly interesting,
not only on its own account j not only for the
lettiinenee of his talents and attainments, and the
incredible sottishness and blindness of Understand-
ing which marked his maturer years ; but as strik-
ingly illustrative of the credulity and superstitious
feith of the time in which he livedo At a later
period his miraculous stone which displayed siich
wcmders, and was attended with ^o long a series
of supernatural vocal communications would hiave
deceivied nobody : it was scarcely tilore ingenious
•than the idle tricks of the most ordinary conjuirer.
But at this period the crust of long ages of dark-
ness had not yet been fully worn away^ Men did
not trust to the powers of human uridfetstandiiig,
and were tiot femiliarised with the inaiti canons bf
evidence and belief Dee passed six years on the
continent, prbceeding from the court ofotiepnnce
or potent nobleiftan to andther, listenfed to for a
DOCTOR DEE. 397
time by each^ each regarcUng his. oracular commu^
nications Vfith : astonisbment and alarm, and at
length irrei^olutdy casting him offy when he found
little or no difficulty in running a like career with
another*
It is not the least curious circumstance respects
ing the life of Dee, that in l659j half a century
after his deaths there remained still such an in-
terest respecting practices.of this sort, as to author
rise the printing a foUo volume, in a complex and
elaborate form, of his communications with spirits.
The book was brought out by Dr. Meric Casaubon,
no contemptible name in the republic of letters.
The editor observes respecting the hero and his
achievements in the Preface, that, "though his
carriage in certain respects seemed to lay in works
Qf darkness, yet all was tendered by. him to kings
and princes, and by all (England ^one excepted)
was listened to for a good while with good respect,
and, by some for a long time embraced and aiter^
tained." He goes on to say, that "the &me of it
made the pope bestir himself, and filled all, both
learned and unlearned, with great wonda: and
astonishment.'' He adds, that, " as a whole it is
undoubtedly not to be paralleled inits kind in any
age or country.'* In a word the editor^ though
disavowing an entire belief in Dee's pretensions,
yet plainly . considers them with some degree >of
deference, and insinuates to how much more re-
gard such undue aad exaggerated pretensions are
398 EARL OF DERBY.
entitled, than the impious incredulity of certain
modern Sadducees, who say that " there is no re-
surrection ; neither angel, nor spirit/* The be-
lief in witchcraft and sorcery has undoutedly met
with some degree of favour from this considera-
tion, inasmuch as, by recognising the correspon-
dence of human beings with the invisible world ,it
has one principle in common with the believers in
revelation, of which the more daring infidel is
destitute.
EARL OF DERBY.
The circumstances of the death of Ferdinand,
fifth earl of Derby, in 1594, have particularly en-
gaged the attention of the contemporary historians.
Hesket, an emissary of the Jesuits and English
Catholics abroad, was importunate with this noble-
man to press his title to the crown, as the legal
representative of his great-grandmother Mary,
youngest daughter to king Henry the Seventh.
But the earl, fearing, as it is said, that this was
only a trap to ensnare him, gave information against
Hesket to the government, in consequence of which
he was apprehended, tried and executed. Hesket
had threatened the earl that, if he did not comply
.with his suggestion, he should live only a short
time. Accordingly, four months afterwards, the
earl was seized with a very uncommqp disease.
A waxen image was at the same time found in his
KING JAMESES VOYAGE TO NORWAY. S99
chamber with hairs in its belly exactly of the same
colour as those of the earU. The image was, by
some zealous friend of lord Derby, burned ; but
the earl grew worse. He was himself thoroughly
persuaded that he was bewitched. Stow has in-
serted in his Annals a minute account of his dis-
ease from day to day, with a description of all the
symptoms.
KING JAMES'S VOYAGE TO NORWAY.
While Elizabeth amused herself with the super-
natural gifts to which Dee advanced his claim,
and consoled the adversity and destitution to which
the old man, once so extensively honoured, was
now reduced, a scene of a very different com-
plexion was played in the northern part of the
island. Trials for sorcery were numerous in the
reign of Mary queen of Scots ; the comparative
darkness and ignorance of the sister kingdom ren-
dered it a soil still more favourable than England
to the growth of these gloomy superstitions. But
the mind of James, at once inquisitive, pedantic
and self-sufficient, peculiarly fitted him for the
pursuit of these narrow-minded and obscure spe-
culations. One combination of circumstances
wrought up this propensity within him to the
greatest height.
James was born in the year 1566. He was the
» Camden, aftno 1693, 1694..
400 KING JAMESES VOYAGE TO NORWAY.
only direct heir to the crown of Sco^tland; aad
he was in near prospect of succession to that of
England. The zeal of the Protestant Reformation,
had wrought up the anxiety of meu's minds to a
fever of anticipation and forecast. Consequently,
towards the end of the reign of Elizabeth, a point
which greatly arrested the. general attention was
the expected marriage of the king of Scotland.
Elizabeth, with that petty jealousy which obscured
the otherwise noble qualities of her spirit, sought
to countermine this marriage, that her rival and
expected successor might not be additionally graced
with the honours of offspring. James fixed his
mind upon a daughter of the king of Denmark.
By the successful cabals of Elizabeth he was baffled
in this suit J and the lady was finally married to
the duke of Bavaria. The king of Denmark had
another daughter ^ and James made proposals to
this princess. Still he was counteracted ; till at
length he. sent a splendid embassy, with ample
ppwers and instructions, and the treaty was con-
cluded. The princess embarked j but, when she
had now for some time been expected in Scotland,
news was brought instead, that she had been driven
back by tempests on the coast of Norway. The
young king feh keenly his disappointment, and
gallantly resolved to sail in person for the port,
where his intended consort was detained by the
shattered condition of her fleet. James arrived
on the twenty-second of October 1589, and having
KING James's voyage to norway. 401
consummated his marriage, was induced by the
invitation of his father-in-law to pass the winter at
Copenhagen, from whence he did not sail till the
spring, and, after having encountered a variety of
contrary winds and some danger, reached Edin-
burgh on the first of May in the following year.
It was to be expected that variable weather and
storms should characterise the winter-season in
these seas. But the storms were of longer con-
tinuance and of more frequent succession, than was
usually known. And at this period, when the
proposed* consort of James first, then the king
himself, and finally both of them, and the hope of
Protestant succession, were committed to the
mercy of the waves, it is not wonderful that the
process of the seasons should be accurately marked,
and that those varieties, which are commonly as-
cribed to second causes, should have been imputed
to extraordinary and supernatural interference. It
was affirmed that, in the king's return from Den-
mark, his ship was impelled by a different wind
from that which acted on the rest of his fleet.
It happened that, soon after James's return to
Scotland,* one Geillis Duncan, a servant-maid, for
the extraordinary circumstances that attended cer-
tain cures which she performed, became suspected
of witchcraft. Her master questioned her on the
subject ; but she would own nothing. Perceiving
her obstinacy, the master took upon himself of his
own authority, to extort confession from her by
2 D
402 KING James's voyage to Norway.
torture. In this he succeeded ; and, having re-
lated divers particulars of witchcraft of herself, she
proceeded to accuse others. The persons she ac-
cused were cast into the public prison.
One of these, Agnes Sampson by name, at first
stoutly resisted the torture. But, it being more stre-
nuously applied, she by and by became extremely
communicative. It was at this period that James
personally engaged in the examinations. We are
told that he " took great delight in being present,''
and putting the proper questions. The unhappy
victim was introduced into a room plentifully fur-
nished with implements of torture, while the king
waited in an apartment at a convenient distance,
till the patient was found to be in a suitable frame
of mind to make the desired communications. No
sooner did he or she signify that they were ready,
and should no longer refuse to answer, than they
were introduced, fainting, sinking under recent
sufferings which they had no longer strength to
resist, into the royal presence. And here sat
James, in envied ease and conscious " delight,''
wrapped up in the thought of his own sagacity,
framing the enquiries that might best extort the
desired evidence, and calculating with a judg-
ment by no means to be despised, from the bear-
ing, the turn of features, and the complexion of
the victim, the probability whether he was making
a frank and artless confession, or had still the
secret desire to impose on the royal examiner, or
KING James's voyage to Norway. 403
from a different motive was disposed to make use
of the treacherous authority which the situation
afforded, to gratify his revenge upon some person
towards whom he might be inspired with latent
hatred and malice.
Agnes Sampson related with what solicitude
she had sought to possess some fragment of the
linen belonging to the king. If he had worn it,
and it had contracted any soil from his royal per-
son, this would be enough : she would infallibly,
by applying her incantations to this fragment,
have been able to undermine the life of the sove-
reign. She told how she with two hundred other
witches had sailed in sieves from Leith to North
Berwick church, how they had there encountered
the devil in person, how they had feasted with him,
and what obscenities had been practised. She re-
lated that in this voyage they had drowned a cat,
having first baptised him, and that immediately
a dreadftil storm had arisen, and in this very
storm the king's ship had been separated from the
rest of his fleet. She took James aside, and, the
better to convince him, undertook to repeat to
him the conversation, the dialogue which had
passed from the one to the other, between the
king and queen in their bedchamber on the wed-
ding-night. Agnes Sampson was condemned to
the flames.
2 D 2
404 JOHN FIAN.
JOHN FIAN.
Another of the miserable victims on this occa-
sion was John Fian, a schoolmaster at Tranent
near Edinburgh, a young man, whom the ignorant
populace had decorated with the style of doctor.
He was tortured by means of a rope strongly
twisted about his head, and by the boots. He
was at length brought to confession. He told of
a young girl, the sister of one of his scholars, with
whom he had been deeply enamoured. He had
proposed to the boy to bring him three hairs from
the most secret part of his sister's body, possessing
which he should be enabled by certain incantations
to procure himself the love of the girl. The boy
at his mother's instigation brought to Fian three
hairs from a virgin heifer instead ; and, applying
his conjuration to them, the consequence had been
that the heifer forced her way into his school,
leaped upon him in amorous fashion, and would
not be restrained from following him about the
neighbourhood.
This same Fian acted an important part in the
scene at North Berwick church. As being best
fitted for the office, he was appointed recorder or
clerk to the devil, to write down the names, and
administer the oaths to the witches. He was ac-
tively concerned in the enchantment, by means of
which the king's ship had nearly been lost on his
return from Denmark. This part of his proceed-
KING James's demonology. 405
ing however does not appear in his own confession,
but in that of the witches who were his fellow-
conspirators.
He further said, that, the night after he made
his confession, the devil appeared to him, and
was in a furious rage against him for his disloyalty
to his service, telling him that he should severely
repent his infidelity. Acccording to his own ac-
count, he stood firm, and defied the devil to do
his worst. Meanwhile the next night he escaped
out of prison, and was with some difficulty retaken.
He however finally denied all his former confes-
sions, said that they were falshoods forced from
him by mere dint of torture, and, though he was now
once more subjected to the same treatment to such
an excess as must necessarily have crippled him of
his limbs for ever, he proved inflexible to the last*
At length by the king's order he was strangled,
and his body cast into the flames. Multitudes of
unhappy men and women perished in this cruel
persecution*.
KING JAMES'S DEMONOLOGY.
It was by a train of observations and experience
like this, that James was prompted seven years
after to compose and publish his Dialogues on
Demonology in Three Books. In the Preface to
this book he says, " The fearfull abounding at this
* Pitcairn, Trials in Scotland in Five Volumes, 4to.
406 KING JAMESES DEMONOLOGY,
time in this countrey, of these detestable slaves of
the Diuel, the Witches or enchaunters, hath moved
me (beloued Reader) to dispatch in post this fol-
lowing Treatise of mine, not in any wise (as I pro-
test) to serue for a shew of my learning and in-
gine, but onely (moued of conscience) to preasse
thereby, so farre as I can, to resolue the doubting
hearts of many, both that such assaults of Satan
are most certainely practised, and that the instru-
ments thereof merits most seuerely to be punished/*
In the course of the treatise he affirms, " that
bames, or wiues, or neuer so diffamed persons,
may serue for sufficient witnesses and proofes in
such trialls ; for who but Witches can be prooves,
and so witnesses of the doings of Witches* ?*' But,
lest innocent persons should be accused, and suffer
falsely, he tells us, " There are two other good
helps that may be used for their trial : the one is,
the finding of their maxke [a mark that the devil
was supposed to impress upon some part of their
persons], and the trying the insensibleness thereof:
the other is their fleeting on the water : for, as in
a secret murther, if the dead carkasse be at any
time thereafter handled by the murtherer, it will
gush out of bloud, as if the bloud were crying to
the heauen for revenge of the murtherer, God
hauing appointed tlxat secret supernaturall signe,
for triall of that secret unnaturall crime, so it ap-
pears that God hath appointed (for a superoaturall
» King James's Works, p. 13^.
STATUTE, 1 JAMES I. 407
signe of the monstrous impietie of Witches) that
the water shall refuse to receiue them in her bo*
some, that haue shaken off them the sacred water
of Baptisme, and wilfully refused the benefite
thereof: No, not so much as their eyes are able to
shed teares (threaten and torture them as ye please)
while first they repent (God not permitting them
to dissemble their obstinacie in so horrible a
crime\y'
STATUTE, 1 JAMES I.
In consequence of the strong conviction James
entertained on the subject, the English parliament
was induced, in the first year of his reign, to su-
persede the milder proceedings of Elizabeth, and
to enact that " if any person shall use, practice, or
exercise any invocation or conjuration of any evil
and wicked spirit, or shall consult, covenant with,
entertain, employ, feed or reward any evil and
wicked spirit, to or for any intent and purpose;
or take up any dead man, woman, or child out of
their grave, or the skin, bone, or any part of any
dead person, to be used in any manner of witch-
craft, sorcery or enchantment^ or shall use any
witchcraft, sorcery or enchantment, whereby any
person shall be killed, destroyed, wasted, con-
sumed, pined or lamed in his or her body, or any
part thereof J that then every such offender, their
^ King James's Works, p. 185, 180.
408 FOBMAN AND OTHERS.
aiders, abettors and counsellors shall suffer the
pains of death/' And upon this statute great num-
bers were condemned and executed.
FORMAN AND OTHERS.
There is a story of necromancy which unfortu-
nately makes too prominent a 6gure in the history
of the court and character of king James the First.
Robert earl of Essex, son of queen Elizabeth's
favourite, and who afterwards became commander
in chief of the parliamentary forces in the civil
wars, . married lady Frances Howard, a younger
daughter of the earl of Suffolk, the bride and bride-
groom being the one thirteen, the other fourteen
years old at the time of the marriage. The rela-
tives of the countess however, who had brought
about the match, thought it most decorous to se-
parate them for some time, and, while she remained
at home with her friends, the bridegroom travelled
for three or four years on the continent. The lady
proved the greatest beauty of her time, but along
with this had the most libertine and unprincipled
dispositions.
The very circumstance that she had vowed her
faith at the altar when she was not properly C£^a-
ble of choice, inspired into the wayward mind of
the countess a repugnance to her husband. He
came from the continent, replete with accomplish-
ments ; and we may conclude, from the figure he
FORMAN AND OTHERS. 409
afterwards made in the most perilous times, not
without a competent share of intellectual abilities.
But the countess shrank from all advances on his
part. He loved retirement, and woed the lady to
scenes most favourable to the development of the
affections : she had been bred in court, and was me-
lancholy and repined in any other scene. So capri-
cious was her temper, that she is said at the same
time to have repelled the overtures of the accom-
plished and popular prince Henry, the heir to the
throne.
It happened about this period that a beautiful
young man, twenty years of age, and full of all
martial graces, appeared on the stage. King James
was singularly partial to young men who were dis-
tinguished for personal attractions. By an extra-
ordinary accident this person, Robert Carr by
name, in the midst of a court-spectacle, just when
it was his cue to present a buckler with a device
to the king, was thrown from his horse, and broke
his leg. This was enough : James naturally be-
came interested in the misfortune, attached him-
self to Carr, and even favoured him again and
again with a royal visit during his cure. Presently
the young man became an exclusive favourite ; and
no honours and graces could be obtained of the
sovereign but by his interference.
This circumstance fixed the wavering mind of
the countess of Essex. Voluptuous and self-willed
in her disposition, she would hear of no one but
410 FORMAN AND OTHERS^
Carr. But her opportunities of seeing him were
both short and rare. In this emergency she ap-
plied to Mrs. Turner, a woman whose profession
it was to study and to accommodate the fancies of
such persons as the countess. Mrs. Turner intro-
duced her to Dr. Forman, a noted astrologer and
magician, and he, by images made of wax, and
various uncouth figures and devices, undertook to
procure the love of Carr to the lady. At the same
time he practised against the earl, that he might
become impotent, at least towards his wife. This
however did not satisfy the lady ; and having gone
the utmost lengths towards her innamorato, she
insisted on a divorce in all the forms, and a legal
marriage with the youth she loved. Carr appears
originally to have had good dispositions; and,
while that was the case, had assiduously culti-
vated the friendship of Sir Thomas Overbury, one
of the most promising young courtiers of the time.
Sir Thomas earnestly sought to break off the in-
timacy of Carr with lady Essex, and told him how
utterly ruinous to his reputation and prospects it
would prove, if he married her. But Carr, instead
of feeling how much obliged he was to Overbury
for this example of disinterested fiiendship, went
immediately and told the countess what the young
man said.
From this time the destruction of Overbury was
resolved on between them. He was first com-
mitted to the Tower by an arbitrary mandate of
L
FORM AN AND OTHERS^ 411
James for refusing an embassage to Russia, next
sequestered from all visitors, and finally attacked
with poison, which, after several abortive attempts,
was at length brought to effect. Meanwhile a
divorce was sued for by the countess upon an alle-
gation of impotence ; and another female was said
to have been substituted in her room, to be sub-
jected to the inspection of a jury of matrons in '
proof of her virginity. After a lapse of two years
the murder was brought to light, the inferior
criminals, Mrs, Turner and the rest, convicted
and executed, and Carr, now earl of Somerset, and
his countess, found guilty, but received the royal
pardon. — It is proper to add, in order to give a
just idea of the state of human credulity at this
period, that, Forman having died at the time that
his services were deemed most necessary, one
Gresham first, and then a third astrologer and en-
chanter were brought forward, to consummate the
atrocious projects of the infamous countess. It is
said that she and her second husband were ulti-
mately so thoroughly alienated from each other,
that they resided for years under the same roof,
with the most careful precautions that they might
not by any chance come into each other's pre-
sence*.
» Truth brought to Light by Time. Wilson, History of James I.
412 LANCASHIRE WITCHES-
LATEST IDEAS OF JAMES ON THE SUBJECT.
It is worthy of remark however that king James
lived to alter his mind extremely on the question
of witchcraft. He was active in his observations
on the subject; and we are told that "the fre-
quency of forged possessions which were detected
by him wrought such an alteration in his judgment,
that he, receding from what he had written in his
early life, grew first diffident of, and then flatly to
deny, the working of witches and devils, as but
falshoods and delusions*/'
LANCASHIRE WITCHES.
A more melancholy tale does not occur in the
annals of necromancy than that of the Lancashire
witches in 1612. The scene of this story is in
Pendlebury Forest, four or five miles from Man-
* Fuller, Church History of Britain, Book X, p. 74. See also
Osborn*s Works, Essay I : where the author says, he " gave
charge to his judges, to be circumspect in condemning those,
committed by ignorant justices for diabolical compacts. Nor
had he concluded his advice in a narrower circle, as I have heard,
than the denial of any such operations, but out of reason of
state, and to gratify the church, which hath in no age thought fit
to explode out of the common people's minds an apprehension
of witchcraft." The author adds, that he " must confess James
to have been the promptest man living in his dexterity to dis-
cover an imposture," and subjoins a remarkable story in con-
firmation of this assertion.
LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 41tS
Chester, remarkable for its picturesque and gloomy
situation. Such places were not sought then as
now, that they might afford food for the imagina-
tion, and gratify the refined taste of the traveller.
They were rather shunned as infamous for scenes
of depredation and murder, or as the consecrated
haunts of diabolical intercourse. Pendlebury had
been long of ill repute on this latter account, when
a country magistrate, Roger Nowel by name, con-
ceived about this time that he should do a public
service, by rooting out a nest of witches, who ren-
dered the place a terror to all the neighbouring
vulgar. The first persons he seized on were Eliza-
beth Demdike and Ann Chattox, the former of
whom was eighty years of age, and had for some
years been blind, who subsisted principally by
begging, though she had a miserable hovel on the
spot, which she called her own. Ann Chattox
was of the same age, and had for some time been
threatened with the calamity of blindness. Dem-
dike was held to be so hardened a witch, that she
had trained all her family to the mystery ; namely,
Elizabeth Device, her daughter, and James and
Alison Device, her grandchildren. In the accu-
sation of Chattox was also involved Ann Redferne,
her daughter. These, together with John Bulcock,
and Jane his mother, Alice Nutter, Catherine
Hewit, and Isabel Roby, were successively appre-
hended by the diligence of Nowel and one or two
neighbouring magistrates, and were all of them by
414 LANCASHIRE WITCHES.
some means induced, some to make a more liberal,
and others a more restricted confession of their
misdeeds in witchcraft, and were afterwards hur-
ried away to Lancaster Castle, fifty miles off, to
prison. Their crimes were said to have universaDy
proceeded from malignity and resentment ; and it
was reported to have repeatedly happened for poor
old Demdike to be led by night from her habita-
tion into the open air hy some member of her
family, when she was left alone for an hour to
curse her victim, and pursue her unholy incan-
tations, and was then souglit, and brought again to
her hovel. Her curses never failed to produce the
desired effect.
These poor wretches had been but a short time
in prison, when information was given, that a
meeting of witches was held on Good Friday, at
Malkin's Tower, the habitation of Elizabeth De-
vice, to the number of twenty persons, to consult
how by infernal machinations to kill one Covel,
an officer, to blow up Lancaster Castle, and deliver
the prisoners, and to kill another man of the name
of Lister. The last was effected. The other plans
by some means, we are not told how, were pre-
vented.
The prisoners were kept in jail till the summer
assizes j and in the mean time it fortunately hap-
pened that the poor blind Demdike died in con-
finement, and was never brought up to trial.
The other prisoners were severally indicted for
I.ANCASHIRE WITCHES. 415
killing by witchcraft certain persons who were
named, and were all found guilty. The principal
witnesses against Elizabeth Device were James
Device and Jennet Device^ her grandchildren, the
latter only nine years of age. When this girl was
put into the witness-box, the grandmother, on
seeing her, set up so dreadful a yell, intermixed
with bitter curses, that the child declared that she
could not go on with her evidence, unless the pri-
soner was removed. This was agreed to; and
both brother and sister swore, that they had been
present, when the devil feame to their grandmother
in the shape of a black dog, and asked her what
she desired. She said, the death of John Robinson ;
when the dog told her to make an image of Robin-
son in clay, and after crumble it into dust, and as
fast as the image perished, the life of the victim
should waste away, and in conclusion the man
should die. This evidence was received; and
upon such testimony, and testimony like this, ten
persons were led to the gallows, on the twentieth
of August, Ann Chattox of eighty years of age
among the rest, the day after the trials, which
lasted two days, were finished. The judges who
presided on these trials were sir Jame<? Altham and
sir Edward Bromley, barons of the exchequer*.
From the whole of this story it is fi^ir to infer,
that these old women had played at the game of
» Discovery of the Witches, 1612, printed by order of the
Court.
416 LANCASHIRE WITCHES.
commerce with the devil. It had flattered their
vanity, to make their simpler neighbours afraid^ of
them. To observe the symptoms of their rustic
terror, even of their hatred and detestation, had
been gratifying to them. They played the game
so long, that in an imperfect degree they deceived
themselves. Human passions are always to a cer-
tain degree infectious. Perceiving the hatred of
their neighbours, they began to think that they were
worthy objects of detestation and terror, that their
imprecations had a real effect, and their curses
killed. The brown horrors of the forest were
favourable to visions ; and they sometimes almost
believed, that they met the foe of mankind in the
night But, when Elizabeth Device actually saw
her grandchild of nine years old placed in the wit-
ness-box, with the intention of consigning her to
a public and an ignominious end, then the reveries
of the imagination vanished, and she deeply felt
the reality, that, where she had been somewhat
imposing on the child in devilish sport, she had
been whetting the dagger that was to take her own
life, and digging her own grave. It was then no
wonder that she uttered a preternatural yell, and
poured curses from the bottom of her heart. It
must have been almost beyond human endurance,
to hear the cry of her despair, and to witness the
curses and the agony in which it vented itself.
Twenty-two years elapsed after this scene, when
a wretched man, of the name of Edmund Robinson,
LANCASHIRE WITCHES. 417
conceived on the same spot the scheme of making
himself a profitable speculation from a similar
source. He trained his son, eleven years of age,
and furnished him with the necessary instructions.
He taught him to say that one day in the fields he
had met with two dogs, which he urged on to
hunt a hare. They would not budge; and he
in revenge tied them to a bush and whipped
them; when suddenly one of them was transformed
into an old woman and the other into a child, a
witch and her imp. This story succeeded so well,
that the father soon after gave out that his son had
an eye that could distinguish a witch by sight, and
took him round to the neighbouring churches,
where he placed him standing on a bench after
ser\dce, and bade him look round and see what he
could observe. The device, however clumsy, suc-
ceeded, and no less than seventeen persons were
apprehended at the boy's selection, and conducted
to Lancaster Castle. These seventeen persons
were tried at the assizes, and found guilty ; but
the juc^e, whose name has unfortunately been
lost, unlike sir James Altham and sir Edward
Bromley, saw something in the case that excited
his suspicion, and, though the juries had not hesi-
tated in any one instance, respited the convicts,
and sent up a report of the affair to the govern-
ment. Twenty-two years on this occasion had not
elapsed in vain. Four of the prisoners were by
the judge's recommendation sent for to the metro-
2 E
418 LADY DAVIES.
polls, and were examined first by the king^s phy*
stctans, and then by Charles the First in person.
The boy's jBtory was strictly scrutinised. In fine
he confessed that it was all an impostiure; and the
whole seventeen received the royal pardon^.
LADY DAVIES.
Eleanor Tuchet, daughter of Geoi^e lord Aud-*
ley, married Mr John Davies, an eminent lawyer in
the time of James the First, and author of a poem
of oonsiderable merit on the Immortality of the
SouL This lady was a person of no contemptible
talents ; but what she seems most to have valued
herself upon, was her gift of prophecy ; and «hc
accordingly printed a book of Strange and Wondtt-
fiil Predictions. She professed to receive her pro-
phecies froni a spirit, who communicated to her
audibly things about to come to pass, though the
voice could be heard by no other person. Sir John
Davies wa5 nommated lord chief justice > of the
icing's bench in 1626. Before he was inducted
into the office, lady Eleanor, sitting with him on
Sunday at dinner, suddenly burst into a passion of
tears. Sir John asked her what made her weep.
To which she replied, " These are yoiu* funeral
tears.'* iSr John turned off the prediction with a
merry answer. But in a very few days he was
seized mth an apoplexy, of which he presently
* History of Whftlleyv V Thomas Dunham Whitaker, p. 215.
DOCTOR LAMB. 419
clicd\-*.She also predicted the death of the duke
of Buckingham in the same year. For this assutnp^
tion of the gift of prophecy, she was cited brfore
the high-'Commission-court and examined in 1634\
EDWARD FAIEFAX.
It is a painful task to record, that Edward Fair-
&X9 the harmonious and el^ant translator of Taaso^
prosecuted six of his neighbours at York assizes in
the year 1622, for witchcraft on his children.
" The common facts of imps, fits, arid the apparition
of the witches, were deposed against the prisoners.**
The grand jury found the bill, and the accused
'Were arraigned. But, we are told, "the judge*
having a certificate of the sob^ behaviour of the
prisoners* directed the jury so well, as to induce
them to bring in a verdict of acquittal*.** The poet
afterwards drew up a bulky argument and naiTative
in vindication of his conduct-
DOCTOR LAMB.
Dr» Lamb was a noted sorcerer in the time of
Charles the First. The famous Ridbard Baxter, in
hisGertaihty of the World of Spirits, printed in 1691,
has recorded an appropriate instance of the mita <
• Wood, Athense Oxonicnses, Vol. II, p. 507.
*> Heylyn, Life of Laud.
* Hutelunton on Witchcraft.
2 E 2
420 DOCTOR LAMB.
culous performances of this man. Meeting two
of his acquaintance in the street, and they having
intimated a desire to witness some example of
his skill, he invited them home with him. He
then conducted them into an inner room, when
presently, to their no small surprise, they saw a
tree spring up in the middle of the apartment.
They had scarcely ceased wondering at this phe-
nomenon, when in a moment there appeared three
diminutive men, with little axes in their hands for
the purpose of cutting down this tree. The tree
was felled ; and the doctor dismissed his guests,
fully satisfied of the solidity of his pretensions.
That very night however a tremendous hurricane
arose,, causing the house of one of the guests to
rock from side to side, with every appearance that
the building would come down, and bury him and
his wife in the ruins. The wife in great terror
asked, " Were you not at Dr. Lamb's to-day ?'*
The husband confessed it was true. "And did
you not bring away something from his house ?**
The husband owned that, when the little men felled
the tree, he had been idle enough to pick up some
of the chips, and put them in his pocket. Nothing
now remained to be done, but to produce the
chips, and get rid of them as fast as they could.
This ceremony performed, the whirlwind immedi-
ately ceased, and the remainder of the night became
perfectly calm and serene.
Dr. Lamb at length became so odious by his
URBAIN GKANDIER. 421
reputation for these infernal practices, that the
populace rose upon him in 1640, and tore him to
pieces in the streets Nor did the effects of his
ill fame terminate here. Thirteen years after, a
woman, who had been his servant-maid, was appre-
hended on a charge of witchcraft, was tried, and in
expiation of her crime was executed at Tyburn.
URBAIN GRANDIER.
A few years previously to the catastrophe of
Dr. Lamb, there occurred a scene in France which
it is eminently to the purpose of this work to re-
cord. Urbain Grandier, a canon of the church,
and a popular preacher of the town of Loudun
in the district of Poitiers, was in the year 1634
brought to trial upon the accusation of magic.
The first cause of his being thus called in ques^-
tion was the envy of his rival preachers, whose
fame was eclipsed by his superior talents. The
second cause was a libel falsely imputed to him
upon cardinal Richelieu, who with all his emi-
nent qualities had the infirmity of being inex-
orable upon the question of any personal attack
that was made upon him. Grandier, beside his
eloquence, was distinguished for his courage and
resolution, for the graceftilness of his figure, and
the extraordinary attention he paid to the neatness
of his dress and the decoration of his person, which
last circumstance brought upon him the imputation
423 URBAIN GRANDIER.
of being too much devoted to the service of the
fair.
About this time certain nuns of the ccmvent of
Ursulines at Loudun were attacked with a disease
which manifested itself by very extraordinary symp.
toms, suggesting to many the idea that they were
possessed with devils. A rumour was immediately
spread that Grandier, urged by some offence he
had conceived against these nuns, was the author,
by the skill he had in the arts of sorcery, of these
possessions. It unfortunately happened, that the
same capuchin friar who assured cardinal Richelieu
that Grandier was the writer of the libel against
him, also communicated to him the story of the
possessed nuns, and the suspicion which had fallen
on the priest on their accqunt. The cardinal seized
with avidity on this occasion of private vengeance,
wrote to a counsellor of state at Loudun, one of
his creatures, to cause a strict investigation to be
made into the charge, and in such terms as plainly
implied that what he aimed at was the destruction
of Grandier.
The trial took place in the month of August
1634; and, according to the authorised copy
of the trial, Grandier was convicted upon the
evidence of Astaroth, a devil of the order of
Seraphims, and chief of the possessing devib,
of Easas, of Celsua, of Acaos, of Cedon, of Asmo-
deus of the order of thrones, of Alex, of Za^
bulon, of Naphthalim, of Cham, of Uriel, and of
ASTROLOGY* 423
Acfaas of the order of principdities^ and sentenced
to be burned alive* In other words> he was; con^
victed upon the evidence of twelve nuns, who>
being asked who they were, gave in these names»
and professed to be devils, that, compelled by the
CMrder of the court, delivered a constrained testi-
mony. The sentence was accordingly executed,
and Grandier met his fate with heroic constancy.
At his death an enormous drone fly was seen buz-
zing about his head; and a monk, who was i^e-
sent at the execution, attested that, whereaa the
devils are accustomed to present themselves in the
article of death to tempt men to deny God their
Saviour, this was Beelzebub, which in Hebrew
signifies the God of flies, come to carry away to
hell the soul of the victim*.
ASTROLOGY.
The supposed science of astrology is of a nature
lessr tremendous, and less appalling to the imagi^
nation, than the commerce with devils and evil
^irits, or the raising of the dead from the peace
of the tomb to efffect certain magical operations^
or to instruct the living as to the events that are
speedily to befal them. Yet it is well worthy o£
attention in a work of this sort» if for no other refcr
scm, because it has prevailed in almost all nations
and ages of the world, and has been as^uoudy
^ Menagiana, Tom. II» p. 252, et seqq.
424 ASTROLOGY.
cultivated by men, frequently of great talent, and
who were otherwise distinguished for the sound-
ness of their reasoning powers, and for the steadi-
ness and perseverance of their application to the
pursuits in which they engaged.
The whole of the question was built upon the
supposed necessary connection of certain aspects
and conjunctions or oppositions of the stars and
heavenly bodies, with the events of the world and
the characters and actions of men. The human
mind has ever confessed an anxiety to pry into
the future, and to deal in omens and prophetic
suggestions, and, certain coincidences having oc-
curred however fortuitously, to deduce from them
rules and maxims upon which to build an anticipa*
tion of things to come. •
Add to which, it is flattering to the pride of
man, to suppose all nature concerned with and in-
terested in what is of importance to ourselves. Of
this we have an early example in the song of De-
borah in the Old Testament, where, in a fit of
pious fervour and exaltation, the poet exclaims,
" They fought from heaven; the stars in their
courses fought against Sisera*.**
The general belief in astrology had a memorable
eflect on the history of the human mind. All men
in the first instance have an intuitive feeling of
freedom in the acts they perform, and of conse-
quence of praise or blame due to them in just pro-
* Judges, V, 20.
ASTROLOGY. 425
portion to the integrity or baseness of the motives
by which they are actuated* This is in reality
the most precious endowment of man. Hence
it comes that the good man feels a pride and
self-complacency in acts of virtue, takes credit to
himself for the independence of his mind, and is
conscious of the worth and honour to which he
feels that he has a rightful claim. But, if all our
acts are predetermined by something out of our*
selves, if, however virtuous and honourable are our
dispositions, we are overruled by our stars, and
compelled to the acts, which, left to ourselves, we
should most resolutely disapprove, our condition
becomes slavery, and we are left in a state the
most abject and hopeless. And, though our situa-
tion in this respect is merely imaginary, it does
not tiie less fail to have very pernicious results
to our characters. Men, so far as they are be-
lievers in astrology, look to the stars, and not to
themselves, for an account of what they shall do,
and resign themselves to the omnipotence of a fiite
which they feel it in vain to resist. Of conse-
quence, a belief in astrology has the most unfa-
vourable tendency as to the morality of man j and,
were it not that the sense of the liberty of our
actions is so strong that all the reasonings in the
world cannot subvert it, there would be a fatal close
to all human dignity and all human virtue.
42t) WILLIAM LILLY.
WILLIAM LILLY.
One of the most striking examples c^ the ascen«
dancy of astrological faith is in the instance of
William Lilly. This man has fortmiately left us a
narrative of his own life; and he comes sufficiently
near to our time, to give us a feeling of reality in
the transactions in which he was engaged, and to
bring the scenes home to our business and bos(Hns^
Before he enters expressly upon the history of
his life, he gives us incidentally an anecdote which
merits our attention, as tending strongly to illus-
trate the credulity of man at the periods of which
we treat.
Lilly was born in the year 1602. When certain
circumstances led his yet undetermined thoughts
to the study of astrology as his principal pur-
suit, he put himself in the year 1632 under the
tuition of one Evans, whom he describes as poor,
ignorant, drunken, presumptuous and knavish,
but who had a character, as the phrase was, for
erecting a figure, predicting future events, disco-
vering secrets, restoifing stolen goods, and even
for raising a spirit when he pleaded. Sir Kenelm
Digby was one of the most promising characters
of these times, extremely handsome and gracelul
in his person, accomplished in all military ex-
ercises, endowed with high intellectual powers,
and indefatigably inquisitive after knowledge.
To render him the more remarkable, he was the
WILLIAM LILLY; 42?
eldest son of Everard Digby, who was the most
eminent sufferer for the conspiracy of the Gun-
powder Treason.
It was, as it seems, some time before Lilly be*
came acquainted with Evans, that lord Bothwel
and sir Kenelm Digby came to Evans at his lodg-
ings in the Minories, for the express purpose of
desiring him to shew them a spirit. Sir Kenelm
was bom in the year 1603 j he must have been
therefore at this time a young man, butsuflBciently
old to know what he sought, and to choose the
subjects of his enquiry with a certain discretion.
Evans consented to gratify the curiosity of his
illustrious visitors. He drew a circle, and placed
himself and the two strangers within the circle.
He began his invocations. On a sudden, Evans
was taken away from the others, and found him-
self, he knew not how, in Battersea Fields near
the Thames. The next morning a countryman
discovered him asleep, and, having awaked him, in
answer to his enquiries told him where he was.
Evans in the afternoon sent a messenger to his
wife, to inform her of his safety, and to calm the
apprehensions she might reasonably entertain.
Just as the messenger arrived, sir Kenelm Digby
came to the house, curious to enquire respecting
the issue of the adventure of yesterday. Lilly re-
ceived this story from Evans ; and, having asked
him how such an event came to attend on the ex-
periment, was answered that, in practising the in-
428 WILLIAM LILLY.
vocation, he had heedlessly omitted the necessary
sutiumigation, at which omission the spirit had
taken offence
Lilly made some progress in astrology under
Evans, and practised the art in minor matters with
a certain success; but his ambition led him to
aspire to the highest place in his profession. He
made an experiment to discover a hidden treasure
in Westminster Abbey; and, having obtained leave
for that purpose from the bishop of Lincoln, dean
of Westminster, he resorted to the spot with about
thirty persons more, with divining rods. He
fixed on the place according to the rules, and
began to dig ; but he had not proceeded far, be-
fore a furious storm came on, and he judged it
advisable to ^^ dismiss the demons,*' and desist.
These supernatural assistants, he says^ had taken
offence at the number and levity of the persons
present ; and, if he had not left off when he did,
he had no doubt that the storm would have grown
more and more violent, till the whole structure
would have been laid level with the ground.
He purchased himself a house to which to re-
tire in 1636 at Hersham near Walton on Thames,
having, though originally bred in the lowest ob-
scurity, twice enriched himself in some degree by
marriage. He came to London with a view to
practise his favourite art in 1641 ; but, having re-
ceived a secret monition warning him that he was
not yet sufficiently an adept, he retired again into
WILLIAM LILLY. 4^
the country for two years, and did not finally com-
mence his career till 1644, when he published a
Prophetical Almanac, which he continued to do till
about the time of his death. He then immediately
began to rise into considerable notice. Mrs. Lisle,
the wife of one of the commissioners of the great
seal, took to him the urine of Whitlocke, one of
the most eminent lawyers of the time, to consult
him respecting the health of the party, when he
informed the lady that the person would recover
from his present disease, but about a month after
would be very dangerously ill of a surfeit, which
accordingly happened. He was protected by the
great Selden, who interested himself in his favour j
and he tells us that Lenthal, speaker of the house
of commons, was at all times his friend. He fur-
ther says of himself that he was originally partiial
to king Charles and to monarchy: but, when the
parliament had apparently the upper hand, he had
the skill to play his cards accordingly, and secured
his favour with the ruling powers. Whitlocke/
in his Memorials of Affairs in his Own Times,
takes repeated notice of him, says that, meeting
him in the street in the spring of 1645, he en-
quired of Lilly as to what was likely speedily to
happen, who predicted to him the battle of Naseby,
and notes in 1648 that some of his prognostications
" fell out very strangely, particularly as to the king's
fall from his horse about this time." Lilly applied
to Whitlocke in fevour of his rival, Wharton, the
432 MATTHEW HOPKINS.
did; but he ingenuously confessed that he had
not known in what year they would happen. He
said, that he had given these emblematical repre-
sentations without any comment, that those who
were competent might apprehend their meaning,
whilst the rest of the world remained in the igno-
rance which was their appointed portion.
MATTHEW HOPKINS.
Nothing can place the credulity of the English
nation on the subject of witchcraft about this
time, in a more striking point of view, than the
history of Matthew Hopkins, who, in a pamphlet
published in 1647 in his own vindication, assumes
to himself the surname of the Witch-finder. He
fell by accident, in his native county of Suffolk,
into contact with one or two reputed witches, and,
being a man of an observing turn and an ingenious
invention, struck out for himself a trade, which
brought him such moderate returns as sufficed to
maintain him, and at the same time gratified his
ambition by making him a terror to many, and the
object of admiration and gratitude to more, who
felt themselves indebted to him for ridding them
of secret and intestine enemies, against whom, as
long as they proceeded in ways that left no foot-
steps behind, they felt they had no possibility of
guarding themselves. Hopkins's career was some-
thing like that of Titus Gates in the following
MATTHEW HOPKINS. 438
reign, but apparently mucli safer for the adven-
turer, since Gates armed against himself a very
formidable party, while Hopkins seemed to assail
a few only here and there, who were poor, debili-
tated, impotent and helpless.
After two or three successful experiments, Hop-
kins engaged in a. regular tour of the counties of
Norfolk, SuflFolk, Essex and Huntingdonshire. He
united to him two confederates, a man named
John Stern, and a woman whose name has not
been handed down to us. They visited every
town in th/eir route that invited them, and secured
to them the moderate remuneration of twenty
shilBngs and their expences, leaving what was
more than this to the ' spontaneous gratitude of
those who should deeni themselves indebted to
the exertions of Hopkins and his party. By this
expedient they secured to themselves a favourable
xeception, and a set of credulous persons who
would listen to their dictates as so many oracles.
Being three of them, they were enabled to play
the game into one another's hands, and were suf-
ficiently strong to overawe all timid and irresolute
opposition. In every town to which they came,
they enquired for reputed witches, arid having
taken them into custody, were secure for the most
part of a certain number of zealous abettors, who
took (iare that they should hav^ a clear stage for
their experiments* They overawed their helpless
victims with a certain air of authority, as if they
2 F
434 MATTHEW HOPKINS.
had received a commission from heaven for the
discovery of misdeeds. They assailed the poor
creatures with a multitude of questions constructed
in the most artful manner. They stripped them
naked, in search for the devil's marks in different
parts of their bodies, which were ascertained by
running pins to the head into those parts, that, if
they were genuine marks, would prove themselves
such by their insensibility. They swam their vic-
tims in rivers and ponds, it being an undoubted
fact, that, if the persons accused were true witches,
the water, which was the symbol of admission into
the Christian church, would not receive them into
its bosom. If the persons examined continued ob-
stinate, they seated them in constrained and uneasy
attitudes, occasionally binding them with cords,
and compelling them to remain so without food or
sleep for twenty-four hours. They walked them up
and down the room, two taking them under each
arm, till they dropped down with fatigue. They
carefully swept the room in .which the experiment
was made, that they might, keep away spiders and
flies, which were supposeci to fee devils or their
imps in that disguise. • , i r ;
The most plentiful inquisitioju- of Hopkins and
his confederates. was in the years 1644, 1645 and
1646. At length there Were so many persons
committed to prison upon /Suspicion of witchcraft,
that the government was compelled to take in
hand the affair. The rur^ magistrate : before
MATTHEW HOPKINSr. 435
whom Hopkins and his confederates brought their
victims, were obliged, willingly or unwillingly, to
coinniit them for trial. A commission was granted
to the eail of Warwick and others to hold a ses-
sions of jail-delivery against them for Essex at
Chelmsford. Lord Warwick was at this time the
most popular nobleman in England. He was ap-^
pointed by the parliament lord high admiral during
the civil war. He was much courted by the in-
dependent clergy, J was shrewd, penetrating and
active, and esdiibited a singular mixture of pious^
demeanour with a vein of facetiousness and jocu-
larity. With him was sent Dr. Calamy, the most
eminent divine of the period of the Commonwealth,
to see (says Baxter*) that no fraud was committed,
or wrorig done to the parties accused. It may well
be doubted however whether the presence of thisf
clergyman did not operate unfavourably to the per-
sons suspected. He preached before the judges. It
may readily. be believed, considering the temper
of the times, that he insisted much upon the
horrible nature of the sin of witchcraft, which
could expect no pardon, either in this world or the
world to come. He sat on the bench with the
judges, and participated in their deliberations. In
the result of this inquisition sixteen persons were
hanged at Yarmouth in Norfolk, fifteen at Chelms^
ford, and sixty at various places in the county of
Suffolk.
* Certainty of the World of Spirits.
2 F 2
436 MATTHEW HOPKINS.
/ Whitlocke in his Memorialis of English Affairs,
under the date of 1649, speaks of many witch^
being apprehended about Newcastle, upon the in-
formation of a person whom he calls the Witch-
finder, who, as his experiments were nearly thie
same, though he is not named, we may reasonably
suppose to be Hopkins ; and in the following year
about Boston in Lincolnshire. In 1652 and 165S
the same author speaks of women in Scotland, who
were put to incredible torture to extort from them
a confession of what their adversaries imputed to
them.
The fate of Hopkins was such as might be ex-
pected in similar cases. The multitude are at first
impressed with horror at the monstrous charges
that are advanced. They are seized, as by con-
tagion, with terror at the mischiefs which seem to
impend over them, and from which no innocence
and no precaution appear to afford them sufficient
protection. They hasten, as with an unanimous
effort, to avenge themselves upon these malignant
enemies, whom God and man alike combine to
expel from society. But, after a time, they begm
to reflect, and to apprehend that they have acted
with too much precipitation, that they have been
led on with uncertain appearances. They see one
victim led to the gallows after another, without
stint or limitation. They see one dying with . the
most solemn asseverations of innocence, and ano-
ther confessing apparently she knows not what.
CROMWEL. 437
what is put into ' her mouth by her relentless per-
secutors. They see these victims, old, crazy and
impotent, harassed beyond endurance by the in-
genious cruelties that are practised against them.
They were first urged on by implacable hostility
and fury, to be satisfied with nothing but blood.
But humanity and remorse also have their turn.
Dissatisfied with themselves, they are glad to point
their resentment against another. The man that
at first they hailed as a public benefactor, they
presently come to regard with jealous eyes, and
begin to consider as a cunning impostor, dealing
in cool blood with the lives of his felloMf-creatures
for a paltry gain, and, still more horrible, for the
lure of a perishable and short-lived fame. The
multitude, we are told, after a few seasons, rose
upon Hopkins, and resolved to subject him to
one of his own criterions. They dragged him to
a pond, and threw him into the water for a witch.
It seems he fibated on the surface, as a witch
ought to do. They then pursued him with hoot-
ings and revilings, and drove him for ever into
that obscurity and ignominy which he had amply
merited.
. . , CROMWEL.
There is a story of Cromwel recorded by Echard,
the historian, which well deserves to be mentioned,
as strikingly illustrative of the credulity which pre-
vailed about this period. It takes its date from the
438 CBOMWEI^
Hioming of the third of September^ 1651, when
Cromwel gained the battle of Worcester ugainst
Charles the Second, which he was accuatomed to
call by a name sufficiently significant, fads "crown-
ing victory.*' It is told on the auAority of a co-
lonel Lindsey, who is said to have been an intimate
fiiend of the usurper, and to have been commonly
known by that name, as being in reality the senior
captain in CromwePs own regiment. "On this
memorable morning the general,*' it seemjs, " took
this officer with him to a woodside not far from the
army, and bade him alight, and follow him into
that wood, and to take particular notice of what
he saw and heard. After having alighted, and se-
cured their horses, arid walked some little way
into the wood, Lindsay began to turn pale, and to
be seized with horrdr from some unknown cause.
Upon which Cromwel asked him how he did, or
how he felt himself. He answered, that he was
in such a trembling and consternation^ that he had
never felt the like in all the conflicts and battles be
had ever been engaged in : but whether it pro-
ceeded from the gloominess of the place, or the
temperature of his body, he knew not. * How
now?' said Cromwel, *What, troubled with the
vapours ? Come forward, man.' They had not
gone above twenty yards fiirther^ before Lindsey
on a sudden stood still, aind cried out, * By all that
is good I am seized with such unaccountsdWe ter-
ror and astonishment, that it is impossible for me
CROMWEL. 4S9
to Stir one step further/ Upon which Cromwel
called him> * Faint-hearted fool I' and bade hun,
* stand there, and observe, or be witness/ And
then the general, advancing to some distance from
him, met a grave, dderly man with a roll of parch-
ment in his hand, who delivered it to Cromwel,
and he eagerly perused it. Lindsey, a little re-
covered from his fear, heard several loud words
between them : particularly Cromwel said, * This
is but for seven years ; I was to have had it for
one-and-twenty ; and it must, and shall be so/
The other told him positively, it could not be for
more than«se^en* Upon which Cromwel cried
with ^eat fierceness, Vlt shall however be for
fourteen yeiaiis/ But the other peremptorily de-
dared, fit: cduld not possibly be for any longer
time ; and, if he would not take it so, there were
others that would/ Upon which Cromwel at last
took the parchment : and, returning to Lindsey
with great joy in his countenance, he cried, * Now,
Lindsey, the battle is our own ! I long to be en-
gaged.* Retumipg out of the wood, they rode to
the army, Cromwel with a resolution to engage as
soon as possible, and the other with a design to
leave the army as soon.. Aflter the first charge,
Lindsey deserted his post, and rode away with all
possible speed day and night, till he came into the
county of Norfolk, to the house of an intimate
friend, cme Mr. Thoroughgood, minister of the
parish of Grimstone. Cromwel, as soon as he
44Q DOROTHY MATELEY.
missed him, sent all ways, after . him,; with a pro-
mise of a. great reward to any that ^hpuld bring
him. alive or dead. When Mr. Thoroughgood saw
his friend Lindsey come into his yard, his Jiorse
and himself muchtired, in a sort of a maze, he
said, *How now, colonel? We hear there is likely
to be a battle shortly : what, fled from your co-
lours^' *A battle,' said the other j Vyes there
has been a battle, and I am sure the^king is beaten*
But, if ever I strike a stroke for.Cromwel again^
may I perish eternally I For I am sure he has
made a league with the devil, and the devil will
have him in due time.* Then, desiring his pro-
tection from CromwePs inquisitors, he went in,'
and related to him the story in all its circum-
stances/' It is scarcely necessary to remind the
reader, that Cromwel died on that day seven years,
September the third, 1658.
Echard adds, to prove his impartiality as an his-
torian, " How far Lindsey is to be believed, and
how far the story is to be accounted incredible, is
left to the reader's faith and judgment, and not to
any determination of our own."
DOROTHY MATELEY.
I find a story dated about this period, which,
though it does not strictly belong to the subject of
necromancy or dealings with the devil, seems well
to deserve to be inserted in this work. The topic
JOOROTHY MATELEY. 441
of which I treat is properly of human credulity ;
and this infirmity of our nature can scarcely be
more forcibly illustrated than in the following eX;
ionple. It is recorded by the well-known John
Bunyan, in a fugitive tract of his, entitled the Life
and Death of Mr. Badman, but which has since
been inserted in the works of the author in two
volumes folio. In minuteness of particularity and
detail it may vie with almost any story which hu-
man industry has collected, and human simplidty
has ever placed upon record.
"There was,'* says my author^ "a poor woman,
by name Dorothy Mateley, who lived at a small
village, called Ashover, in the county of Derby.
The way in which she earned her subsistence,
wais by washing the rubbish that came from the
lead-mines in that neighbourhood through a sieve,
which labour she performed till the earth had
passed the sieve, and what remained was particles
and small portions of genuine ore. This woman
was of exceedingly low and coarse habits, and
was noted to be a profane swearer, curser, liar and
thief; and her usual way of asserting things was
with . an imprecation, as, ^ I would I might sink
into the earth, if it be not so,' or, * I would that
God would make the earth open and swallow me
up, if I tell an untruth.*
" Now it happened on the 2Srd of March, I66O,
[according to our computation I66I], that ^he was
washing ore on the top of a steep hill about a quarr
442 DOEOTHT MATELEY.
ter of a mile from Ashover, when a lad who was
working on the spot missed two-pence out of his
pocket, and immediately bethought himself of
charging Dorothy with the theft. He had thrpwn
off his breeches, and was working in his drawers.
Dorothy with much seeming indignation denied
the charge, and added, as was usual with har, that
she wished the ground might open and swallow
her up, if she had the boy's mon^.
"One George Hopkinson, a man of good re-
port in Ashover, happened to pass at no great dis-
tance at the time. He stood a while to talk to
the woman. There stood also near the tub a little
child, who was called to by her elder sister to come
away. Hopkinson therefore took the little girl by
the hand to lead her to her that called her. But
he had not gone ten yards from Dorothy, when he
heard her crying out .for help, and turning back,
to his great astonishment he saw the woman, with
her tub and her sieve, twirling round and round,
and sinking at the same time in the earth. She
sunk about three yards, and then stopped, at the
same time calling lustily for assistance. But at
that very moment a great stone fell upon her
head, and broke her skull, and the earth fell in
and covered her. She was afterwards digged up,
and found about four yards under ground, and
the boy's two pennies were discovered on her
person, but the tub and the sieve had altogether
disappeared.'*
WITCHES HANGED BT SIR MATTHEW HALE. 448
WITCHES HANGED BY SIR MATTHEW
HALE,
One of the most remarkable trials that occur in
the history of criminal jurisprudence, was that of
Amy Duny and Rose Cullender at Bury St. Ed-
mund^s in the year 1664. Not for the circum-
stances that occasioned it ; for they were of the
coarsest and most vulgar materials. The victims
were two poor, solitary women of the town of
Lowestoft in Suffolk, who had by temper and
demeanour rendered themselves particularly ob-
noxious to their whole neighbourhood. Whenever
they were offended with any one, and this fre-
quently happened, they vented their wrath in Curses
and ill language, muttered between their teeth, and
the sense of which could scarcely be collected ;
and ^ver and anon they proceeded to utter dark
predictions of evil, which should happen in re-
venge for the ill treatment they received. The
fishermen would not sell them fish ; and the boys
in the street were taught to fly from them with
horror, or to pursue them with hootings and scur-
rilous abuse.' The principal charges against them
vreret that the children of two families were many
times seized with fits, in which they exclaimed
that diey saw Amy Duny and Rose Cullender
coming to torment them. They vomited, and in
their vomit were often found pins, and once or
twice a two-penny naik One or two of the chil-
444 WITCHES HANGED BY SIR MATTHEW HALE.
dren died ; for the accusations spread over a period
of eight years, from 1656 to the time of the trial*
To back these allegations, a waggoner appeared^
whose waggon had been twice overturnied in one
morning, in consequence of the curses of one of
the witches, the waggon having first run against
her hovel, and materially injured it Another
time the waggon stuck f^t in ai gate-way, though
the posts on neithisr side came in contact with the
wheels; and, one of the posts being cut down,
the waggon passed easily along.
This trial, as I have said, was no way memora-
ble for the circumstances that occasioned it,, but
for the importance of the persons who were pre-
sent, and had a share in the conduct of it. The
judge who presided was sir Matthew Hale, then
chief baron of the exchequer, and who had before
rendered himself remarkable for his undaunted re-
sistance to one of the arbitrary mandates of Crom-
wel, then in the height of his power, which wai^
addressed to Hale in his capacity of judge. Hale
was also an eminent author, who had treated upon
the abstrusest subjects, and was equally distin-
guished for his piety and inflexible integrity. An-
other person, who was present, and accidentally
took part in the proceedings, was sir Thomas
Browne, the superlatively eloquent and able author
of the Religio Medici. (He likewise took a part
on the side of superstition in the trial of the Lan-
cashire witches in 1634.) A judge also who as-
WrrCHES HANGED BY SIR MATTHEW HALE. 445
listed at the trial was Keeling, who afterwards oc-
cupied the seat of chief justice.
Sir Matthew Hale apparently paid : deep atten-
tion to the trial, and felt much perplexed by the
evidence. Seeing sir Thomas Browne in courts
and knowing him for a man of extensive informa-
tion and vast powers of intellect. Hale appealed
to him, somewhat extrajudicially, for his thoughts
on what had transpired. Sir Thomas gave it as liis
opinion that the children were bewitched, and in-
forced his position by something that had lately oc-
cured in Denmark. Keeling dissented from this, and
inclined to the belief that it might all be practice,
and that there was nothing supernatural in the affair.
The chief judge was cautious in his proceeding.
He even refused to sum up the evidence, lest he
might unawares put a gloss of his own upon any
thing that had . been sworn, but/ left it all to the
jury. He told them that the Scriptures Irfl no
doubt that there was such a thing as witchcraft,
apd instructed them that aU they had to do was,
first, to consider whether the children were really
bewitched, and secondly, whether the witchcraft
was suflSciently brought home to the prisoners at
the bar. The jury returned a yerdict of guilty ;
aiid the two women were hanged, on the seven-
teenth of March 1664, one week after their, trial.
The women shewed very little activity during the
ftrial, and died protestipg their innocence*^
. '_ »: Trial of the Witches .executed at Bury St. Edmund's.
446 WITCHES HANGED BY SIR MATTHEW HALE.
This trial is particularly memorable for the cir-
cumstances that attended it. It has none of the
rust of ages : no obscurity arises from a long vista
of years interposed between. Sir Matthew Hale
and sir Thomas Browne are eminent authors ; and
there is something in such men, that in a manner
renders them the contemporaries of all times, the
living acquaintance of successive ages of the world.
Names generally stand on the page of history as
mere abstract idealities ; but in the case of these
men we are familiar with their tempers and pre-
judices, their virtues and vices, their strength and
their weakness.
They proceed in the first place upon the assump-
tion that there is such a thing as witchcraft, and
therefore have nothing to do but with the cogency
or weakness of evidence as applied to this particu-
lar case. Now what are the premises on which
they proceed in this question ? They believe in
a God, omniscient, aU wise, all powerful, and
whose " tender mercies are over aU his works."
They believe in a devil, awful almost as Grod him-
self, for he has power nearly unlimited, and a will
to work all evil, with subtlety, deep reach of
thought, vigilant, " walking about, sedking whom
he may devour.*' This they believe, for they refer
to " the Scriptures, as confirming beyond doubt
that there is such a thing as witchoraft.** Now
what office do they assign to the devil, "the prince
of the power of the air,*' at whose mighty attri-
WITCHES HANGBD BY SIB MATTHEW HALE. 44?
butes, combined with his insatiable malignity, the
wisest of us might well stand aghast? It is the
first law of sound sense and just judgment,
■■ '■ servetur ad imumf
QuaUs ah incoepto processeritf et sihi constet ;
that every character which we place on the scene
of things should demean himself as his beginning
promises, and preserve a consistency that, to a
mind sufficiently sagacious, should almost serve us
in lieu of the gift of prophecy. And how is this
devil employed according to sir Matthew Hale and
sir Thomas Browne ? Why in proffering himself
as the willing tool of the malice of two doting old
women. In afflicting with fits, in causing them to
vomit pins and nails, the children of the parents
who had treated the old women with barbarity ^nd
cruelty. In judgment upon these women sit two
men, in some respects the most enlightened of an
age that produced Paradise Lost, and in confirma-
tion of this blessed creed two women are executed
in cool blood, in a country which had just achieved
its liberties under the guidance and the virtues of
Hampden.
What right we have in any case to take away
the life of a human being already in our power, and
under the forms of justice, is a problem, one of the
hardest that can be proposed for the wit of man to
solve. But to see some of the wisest of men, sit-
ting in judgment upon the lives of two human
creatures in consequence of the forgery and tricks
448 WITCHCRAFT IK SWEDEN.
of a set of malicious cbildi^en,:a3 in this case un-
doubtedly it was, is beyond conception d0ploraWe.
Let us think for a moment of the inexpress^ible
evils which a man encounters when dragged from
his peaceful home under a capital accusation, of
his arraignment in open court, of the orderly
course of the evidence, and of the sentence
awarded against him, of the "damned, minutes
and days he counts over" from that time to his ex-
ecution, of his being finally brought forth before ;a
multitude exasperated by his supposed crimes^
and his being cast out from off the earth as un-
worthy so much as to exist among men, and all
this being wholly innocent. The consciousness of
innocence a hundred fold embitters the pang.
And, if these poor women were too obtuse of soul
entirely to feel the pang, did that give their supe-
riors a right to overwhelm and to crush them?
WITCHCRAFT IN SWEDEN.
The story of witchcraft, as it is reported to have
passed in Sweden in the year I67O, and has lAany
times been reprinted in this country, is on several
accounts one of the most interesting and deplorable
that has ever been recorded. The scene lies in
Dalecarlia, a country for ever memorable as hav-
ing witnessed some of the earliest adventures of,
Gustavus Vasa, his deepest humiliation, and the
first: commencement . of his prosperous fortune.
WITCHCRAFT IN SWEDEN. 449
The Dalecarlians are represented to us as the sim-
plest, the most faithful, and the bravest of the sons
of men, men undebauched and unsuspicious, but
who devoted themselves in the most disinterested
manner for a cause that appeared to them worthy
of support, the cause of liberty and independence
against the crudest of tyrants. At least such they
were in 1520, one hundred and fifty years before
the date of the story we are going to recount.
— The site of these events was at Mohra and Elf-
dale in the province that has just been mentioned.
The Dalecarlians, simple and ignorant, but of
exemplary integrity and honesty, who dwelt amidst
impracticable mountains and spacious mines of
copper and iron, were distinguished for supersti-
tion among the countries of the north, where all
were superstitious. They were probably subject
at intervals to the periodical visitation of alarms of
witches, when whole races of men became wild
with the infection without any one's being well
able to account for it.
In the year I67O, and one or two preceding
years, there was a great alarm of witches in the
town of Mohra. There were always two or three
witches existing in some of the obscure quarters
of this place. But now they increased in number,
and shewed their faces with the utmost audacity.
Their mode on the present occasion was to make
a journey through the air to Blockula, an ima-
ginary scene of retirement, which none but the
2 G
450 WITCHCRAFT IN SWEDEN.
itches and their dupes had ever seen. Here
they met with feasts and various entertainments,
which it seems had particular chatms for the per-
sons who partook of them. The witches used to
go into a field in the environs of Mohra, and cry
aloud to the devil in a peculiar sort of recitation,
" Antecessor, come and carry us to Blockula 1"
Then appeared a multitude of strange beasts, men,
spits, posts, and goats with spits run through their
' entrails and projecting behind that all might have
room. The witches mounted these beasts of bur-
then or vehicles, and were conveyed through the
air over high walls and mountains, and through
churches and chimneys, without perceptible impe-
diment, till they arrived at the place of their des-
tination. Here the devil feasted them with varioufe
compounds and confections, and, having eaten to
their hearts' content, they danced, and then fought.
The devil made them ride on spits, from which
they were thrown ; and the devil beat them with
the spits, and laughed at them. He then caused
them to build a house to protect them against the
day of judgment, and presently overturned the
walls of the house, and derided them again. All
sorts of obscenities were reported to follow upon
these scenes. The devil begot on the witches
sons and daughters: this new generation inter-
married again, and the issue of this further con-
junction appears to have been toads and serpents.
How all this pedigree proceeded in the two or
WITCHCRAFT IN SWEDJEN. 451
three years in which Blockula had ever Jbeen heard
of, I know not that the witches were ever called
on to explain.
But what was most of all to b^ deplored, the
devil was not content with seducing tiie witches
to go and celebrate this infernal sabbath j he fur-
ther insisted that they should bring the children
of Mohra along with them. At first he was satis-
fied, if each witch brought one ; but now he de-
«ianded that each witch should bring six or seven
for her quota. How the witches managed with
the minds of the children we are at a loss to guess.
These poor, harmless innocents, steeped to the
very lips in ignorance and superstition, were by
some means kept in continual alarm by the wicked,
or, to speak more truly, the insane old women,
and said as their prompters said. It does not ap-
pear that the children ever left their beds, at the
time they reported they had been to Blockula.
Their parents watched them with fearful anxiety.
At a certain time of the night the children w^e
seized with a strange shuddering, their limbs were
.agitated, and their skins covered with a profuse
-perspiration. When they came to themselves,
they related that they had been to Blockula, and
the strange things they had seen, similar to what
had already been described by the women. Three
hundred children of various ages are said to have
been seized with this epidemic.
The whole town of Mohra became subject to
2 Q 2
452 WITCHCRAFT IN SWEDEN.
the infection, aiid were overcome with the deepest
affliction. They consulted together, and drew up
a petition to the royal council at Stockholm, in-
treating that they would discover some remedy,
and that the government would interpose its au-
thority to put an end to a calamity to which others
wise they could find no limit. The king of Sweden
was at that time Charles the Eleventh, father of
Charles the Twelfth, and was only fourteen years
of age. His council in their wisdom deputed two
commissioners to Mohra, and furnished them with
powers to examine witnesses, and to take what-
ever proceedings they might judge necessary to
put an end to so unspeakable a calamity.
- They entered on the business of their commission
on the thirteenth of August, the cereirfony having
been begun with two sermons in the great chiirch
of Mohra, in which we may be sure the damnable
sin of witchcraft was fully dilated on, and con-
cluding with prayers to Almighty God that in his
mercy he would speedily bring to an end the tre-
mendous misfortune, with which for their sins he
had seen fit to afflict the poor people of Mohra.
The next day they opened their commission. Se-
venty witches were brought before them. They
were all at first stedfast in their denial, alleging
that the charges were wantonly brought against
them, solely from malice and ill will. But the
judges were earnest in pressing them, till at length
first one, and then ainother, burst into tears, and
WITCHCRAFT IN SWEDEN. 453
^confessed all. Twenty-three were prevailed on
thus to disburthen their consciences ; but nearly
the whole, as well those who owned the justice of
their sentence, as those who protested their inno-
cence to the last, were executed. Fifteen children
confessed their guilt, and were also executed,
Thirty-six other children (who we may infer did
not confess), between the ages of nine and sixteen,
were condemned to run the gauntlet, and to be
whipped on their hands at the church-door every
Sunday for a year together. Twenty others were
whipped on their hands for three Sundays*.
This is certainly a very deplorable scene, and is
made the more so by the previous character which
history has impressed on us, of the simplicity, in-
tegrity, and generous love of liberty of the Dale-
carlians. For the children and their parents we
can feel nothing but unmingled pity. The case
of the witches is diflPerent. That three hundred
children should have been made the victims of this
imaginary witchcraft is doubtless a grievous cala-
mity. And that a number of women should have
been found so depraved and so barbarous, as by
their incessant suggestions to have practised oij
the minds of these children, so as to have robbed
them of sober sense, to have frightened them into
fits and disease, and made them believe the most
odious impossibilities, argued a most degenerate
^ Narrative translated by Dr. Horneck, apud Satan's Invisible
World by Sinclair, and Sadducismus Triumphatus by Olanville.
454 WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND.
character, and well merited severe reprobation, but
not death. Add to which, many of these woriien
may be believed innocent, otherwise a great ma-
jority of those who were executed, would not have
died protesting their entire freedom from what was
imputed to them. Some of the parents no doubt,
from folly and ill judgment, aided the alienation of
mind in their children which they afterwards so
deeply deplored, and gratified their senseless aver-
sion to the old women, when they were themselves
iii many cases more the real authors of the evil
than those who suffered.
WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND.
As a story of witchcraft, without any poetry in
it, without any thing to amuse the imagination, or
interest the fancy, but hard, prosy, and accom-
panied with all that is wretched, pitiful and wither-
ing, perhaps the well known story of the New
England witchcraft surpasses every thing else upon
record. The New Englanders were at this time,
towards the close of the seventeenth century, rigo-
Irous Calvinists, with long sermons and tedious mo-
hotonous prayers, with hell before them for ever
on oiie side, iand a tyrannical, sour and austere God
on the other, jealous of an arbitrary sovereignty,
who hath " mercy on whom he will have mercy,
and whom he will he hardeneth.'' These men,
with lohg and melancholy faces, with a drawling
WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND. 455
and sanctified tone, and a 9arriag^ that wpuld ** at
pnce make the most severely disposed merry, and
the most cheerful spectators sad,'* constituted
nearly the entire population of the province of
Massachusetts Bay.
The prosecutions for witchcraft continued with
little intermission princip^y at Salem, during the
greater part of the year 1^92. The accusations
we?e of the most vulgar and contemptible sort,
invisible pinchings and blows, fitSjj with the blast-
ings and mortality of cattle, and wains stuck fast
in the ground, or losing their wheels. A con-
spicuous feature in nearly the whole of these stories
was what they named the " spectral sight ;" in
other words, that the profligate accusers first
feigned for the most part the injuries they received,
and next saw the figures and action of the persons
who inflicted them, when they were invisible to
every one else. Hence the miserable prosecutors
gained the power of gratifying the wantonness of
their malice, by pretending that they suflTered by
the hand of any one whose name first presented
itself, or against whom they bore an ill will. The
persons so charged, though unseen by any but the
accuser, and who in their corporal presence were
at a distance of miles, and were doubtless wholly
unconscious of tl)e mischief that was hatching
against them, were immediately taken up, and cast
into prison. And what was more monstrous and
incredible, there stood at the bar the prisoner on
456 WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND.
trial for his life, while the witnesses were permitted
to swear that his spectre had haunted them, and
afflicted them with all manner of injuries. That
the poor prosecuted wretch stood astonished at
what was alleged against him, was utterly over-
whelmed with the charges, and knew not what to
answer, was all of it interpreted as so many pre-
sumptions of his guilt. Ignorant as they were,
they were unhappy and unskilful in their defence;
and, if they spoke of the devil, as was but natural,
it was instantly caught at as a proof how familiar
they were with the fiend that had seduced them
to their damnation.
The first specimen of this sort of accusation in
the present instance was given by one Paris, minis-
ter of a church at Salem, in the end of the year
1691, who had two daughters, one nine years old,
the other eleven, that were afflicted with fits and
convulsions. The first person fixed on as the mys-
terious author of what was seen, was Tituba, a
female slave in the family, and she was harassed
by her master into a confession of unlawful prac-
tices and spells. The girls then fixed on Sarah
Good, a female known to be the victim of a mor-
bid melancholy, and Osborne, a poor man that
had for a considerable time been bed-rid, as persons
whose spectres had perpetually haunted and tor-
mented them : and Good was twelve months after
hanged on this accusation.
A person, who was one of the first to fall under
L
WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND. 457
the imputation, was one George Burroughs; also a
minister of Salem. He had, it seems, buried two
wives, both of whom the busy gossips said he had
used ill in their lifetime, and consequently, it was
whispered, had murdered them. This man was
iaccustomed foolishly to vaunt that he knew what
people said of him in his absence ; and this was
brought as a proof that he dealt with the devil.
Two women, who were witnesses against him, in-
terrupted their testimony with exclaiming that
they saw the ghosts of the murdered wives present
(who had promised them they would come), though
ho one else in the court saw them ; and this was
taken in evidence. Burroughs conducted himself
in a very injudicious way on his trial ; but, when
he came to be hanged, made so impressive a speech
on the ladder, with fervent protestations of inno-
cence, as melted many of the spectators into tears*
The nature of accusations of this sort is ever
found to operate like an epidemic. Fits and con-
vulsions are communicated from one subject to
another. The " spectral sight,'* as it was called,
is obviously a theme for the vanity of ignorance.
" Love of fame,'* as the poet teaches, is an " uni-
versal passion," Fame is placed indeed on a height
beyond the hope of ordinary mortals. But in oc-
casional instances it is brought unexpectedly within
the reach of persons of the coarsest mould ; and
many times they will be apt to seize it with pro.-
portionable avidity. When too such -things are
458 WITCHCEAFT IN NEW SNGLAND.
talked of, when the devil and spiiits of heU are
made familiar conversation, when stories of this
sort are among the daily news, and one person and
another, who had a little before nothing extraordi-*
nary about them, become subjects of wonder, these
topics enter into the thoughts of many, sleeping
and waking : ** their young men see visions, and
their old men dream dreams."
In such a town as Salem, the second in point of
importance in the colony, such accusations spread
with wonderful rapidity. Many were seized with
fits, exhibited frightful contortions of their limbs
and features, and became a fearful spectacle to the
bystander. They were asked to assign the cause
of all this ; and they supposed, or pretended to
suppose, some neighbour, already solitary and
afflicted, and on that account in ill odour with the
townspeople, scowUng upon, threatening, and tor-
menting them. Presently persons, specially gifted
with the " spectral sight,'* formed a class by them-
selves, and were sent about at the puWic expence
from place to place, that they might see what no
one else could see* The prisons were filled with
the persons accused. The utmost horror was en-
tertained, as of a calamity which in such a degree
had never visited that part of the world. It hapr
pened, most unfortunately, that Baxter's Certainty
of the World* of Spirits had been published but the
year before, and a number of copies had been sent
out to New England. There seemed a strange
WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND. 459
coincidence and sympathy between vital Chri»-
tianity in its most honourable sense, and the fear
of the devil, who appeared to be "come down
unto them, with great wrath/* Mr. Increase
Mather, and Mr* Cotton Mather, his son, two
clergymen of highest reputation in the neighbour-
hood, by the solemnity and awe with which they
treated the subject, and the earnestness and zeal
which they displayed, gave a sanction to the lowest
superstition and virulence of the ignorant.
All the forms of justice were brought forward
on this occasion. There was no lack of judges,
and grand juries, and petty juries, and executioners,
and still less of prosecutors and witnesses. The
first person that was hanged was on the tenth of
June, five more on the nineteenth of July, five on
the nineteenth of August, and eight on the twenty-
second of September. Multitudes confessed that
they were witches ; for this appeared the only way
for the accused to save their lives. Husbands and
children fell down on their knees, and implored
their wives and mothers to own their guilt. Many
were tortured by being tied neck and heels to-
gether, till they confessed whatever was suggested
to them. It is remarkable however that not one
persisted in her confession at the place of execu-
tion.
The most interesting story that occurred in this
affair was of Giles Cory, and Martha, his wife.
The woman was tried on the ninth of September,
460 WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND.
and hanged on the twenty-second. In the iilterVal,
on the sixteenth, the husband was brought up for
trial. He said, he was not guilty ; but, being
asked how he would be tried? hie refused to go
through the customary form, and say, " By God
and my country.*' He observed that, of all that
had been tried, not one had as yet been pronounced
not guilty ; and he resolutely refused in that mode
to undergo a trial. The judge directed therefore
that, according to the barbarous mode prescribed
in the mother-country, he should be laid on his
back, and pressed to death with weights gradually
accumulated on the upper surface of his body, a
proceeding which had never yet been resorted to
by the English in North America. The man per-
sisted in his resolution, and remained mute till he
expired.
The whole of this dreadful tragedy was kept
together by a thread. The spectre-seers for a con-
siderable time prudently restricted their accusa-
tions to persons of ill repute, or otherwise of no
consequence in the community. By and by how-
ever they lost sight of this caution, and pretended
they saw the figures of some persons well con-
nected, and of unquestioned honour and reputa-
tion, engaged in acts of witchcraft. Immediately
the whole fell through in a moment. The leading
inhabitants presently saw how unsafe it would be
to trust their reputations and their Uves to the
mercy of these profligate accusers. Of fifty-six'
WITCHCRAFT IN NEW ENGLAND. 46l
bills of indictment that were offered to the grand-
jury on the third of January, 1693, twenty-six
only were found true bills, and thirty thrown out.
On the twenty-six bills that were found, three
persons only were pronounced guilty by the petty
jury, and these three received their pardon from
the government. The prisons were thrown open ;
fifty confessed witches, together with two hundred
persons imprisoned on suspicion, were set at li-
berty, and no more accusations were heard of.
The "afflicted,*' as they were technically termed,
recovered their health ; the " spectral sight " was
universally scouted; and men began to wonder
how they could ever have been the victims of so
horrible a delusion*.
■ Cotton Mather, Wonders of the Invisible World; Calef,
More Wonders of the Invisible World ; Neal, History of New
England.
463
CONCLUSION.
The volume of records of supposed necromancy
and witchcraft is suflSciently copious, without its
feeing in any way necessary to trace it tha'ough
its latest relics and fragments. Superstition is so
congenial to the tnind of man, tliat, even in the
early years of the author of the present volume,
scarcely a village was unfurnished with an old
man or woman who laboured under an ill re-
pute on this score v; and I doubt not many remain
to this very day. I remember, when a child, that
I had an old woman pointed out to me by an
ignorant servant-Tnaid, as being unquestionably
possessed of the ominous gifl of the " evil eye,"
and that my impulse was to remove myself as
quickly as might be from the range of her obser-
vation.
But witchcraft, as it appears to me, is by no
means so desirable a subject as to make one un-
willing to drop it. It has its uses. It is perhaps
right that we should be somewhat acquainted with
this repulsive chapter in the annals of human na-
ture. As the wise man «ays in the Bible, " It is
good for us to resort to the house of those that
mourn ;'* for there is a melancholy which is at-
tended with beneficial effects, and " by the sad-
464 CONCLUSION.
ness of the countenance the heart is made better."
But I feel no propensity to linger in these dreary
abodes, and would rather make a speedy exchange
for the dwellings of healthfulness and a certain
hilarity. We will therefore with the reader's per-
mission at length shut the book, and say, " Lo, it
is enough.'*
There is no time perhaps at which we can more
fairly: quit the subject, than when the more en-
lightened governments of Europe have called for
the code of their laws, and have obUterated the
statute which annexed the penalty of death to this
imaginary crime.
So early as the year I672, Louis XIV promul-
gated an order of the council of state, forbidding
the tribunals from proceeding to judgment in cases
where the accusation was of sorcery only*.
In England we paid a much later tribute to
the progress of illumination and knowledge ; and
it was not till the year I736 that a statute was
passed, repealing the law made in the first year of
James I, and enacting that no capital prosecution
should for the future take place for conjuration,
sorcery and enchantment, but restricting the pu-
nishment ofpersons pretending to tell fortunes and
discover stolen goods by witchcraft, to that apper-
taining to a misdemeanour.
As long as death could by law be awarded
Menagiana, Tom II, p. 264. Voltaire, Siecle de Louis
XIV, Chap. xxxi.
CONCLUSION. 465
against those who were charged with a commerce
with evil spirits, and by their means inflicting
mischief on their species, it is a subject not un-
worthy of grave argument and true philanthropy,
to endeavour to detect the fallacy of such pre-
tences, and expose the incalculable evils and the
dreadful tragedies that have grown out of accusa-
tions and prosecutions for such imaginary crimes.
But the effect of perpetuating the silly and super-
stitious tales that have survived this mortal blow,
is exactly opposite. It only serves, to keep alive
the lingering folly of imbecile minds, and still to
feed with pestiferous clouds the thoughts of the
ignorant. Let us rather hail with heart-felt glad-
ness the light which has, though late, broken in
upon us, and weep over the calamity of our fore-
fathers, who, in addition to the inevitable ills of
our sublunary state, were harassed with imagi-
nary terrors, and haunted by suggestions.
Whose horrid image did unfix their hair, .
And make their seated hearts knock at their ribs,
Against the use of nature.
THE END.
LONDON :
BATLIS AND LEIOHTON, JOHNSON^S COURT, FLEET-STREET.
ERRATA.
Page 27, line l4, read "for the most part."
100, note b, dele Plinius.
Ill, line penult, read " himself."
129, line 8, dele and.
143, line 14, read « Cerberus."
243, line 11, read " adherent."
294, line 14, read "flacitious."
302, line 21, read "taskmaster."
369, line 9, read " no where."
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